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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29299950">Descent</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TarantulaLOL/pseuds/TarantulaLOL'>TarantulaLOL</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dramione - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:15:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,756</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29299950</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TarantulaLOL/pseuds/TarantulaLOL</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione had been running and waiting ever since Voldemort won. She tells herself its temporary. Draco had been running too, but from his past, what towards? He doesn't know, but it doesn't matter he's dead. Until they collide.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I just spent a while writing this. like all night hahaha. Its 5:25 am. good morning ig. BTW the title is a place holder. </p><p>As with my other, I'll do my best to keep up and update it. Let me know if you ever see any issues want to see more of anything or have suggestions. I'm super excited to see what everyone thinks.</p><p>I also should mention I'm not British so if you have any suggestions in making my writing more authentic please say something. I'm all good with criticism.</p><p>This will be a slow burn, but not too slow and there will be plot on plot. </p><p>Also, I don't have anyone editing this so expect mistakes, but I'll do my best and make sure on having a good well-written plot. And if you see any plot holes PLEASE let me know ASAP because I will fix them. Okay, that's all.</p><p>ooo also the same fancast applies, if you want I can add it here too but it is on my other fic as well. </p><p>***Please note***</p><p>All the characters and locations belong to J.K. Rowling. The only thing that belongs to me is the plot. ;). I hope you all enjoy xxx</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. It Falls Apart</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hermione and Draco begin to fall apart, they just dont know it yet.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>***</p>
<p>
  <strong>February 17, 2000</strong>
</p>
<p>All she feels like she's ever known is running. It's not reality, but its how she feels. Her feet throb, she's sure they're bleeding and blistered. The faster she runs, snow gets in her boots, it melts down her ankles and into her socks, her feet burn. She pushes herself faster. She can lose them, she's been successful countless times by now. Her fingertips burn as she uses an unfamiliar wand. It doesn't like her and she dislikes it with the same vigour right back. She recasts a silencing charm on her feet. She knows they can see her footsteps but they cannot hear her.</p>
<p>A thick grouping of trees approaches. She runs faster and reaches out with her left arm holding on to the base of an aspen. She uses it to propel herself swinging to her left and changing course, if she can manage and get them to lose her, just enough she can make it. She has a new trick up her sleeve. They don't know, they won't expect it and they won't be prepared at least not coming from her. She's been practising, and she's gotten better, not great but good enough. She's been expecting them, and she knew this would happen as it has before, she knows where she is, and they don't. She grins at the thought, she laughs at herself, she,s lost it. Running from death eaters, death itself and she is smiling. She doesn't need a time-turner to know what's going to happen, she's going to live because she is going to outsmart them. Maybe not next time, but this time.</p>
<p>Her feet sting, but she continues, she makes her last turn. Ten yards to go, and they are behind her enough, she knows what they'll see, and what assumptions will be made. Four yards, she makes her move, she snaps a branch of a tree still running. She wills her wand to cooperate and transfigures the branch into a broom. She launches herself off the cliffside. Jumping on to the broom, it's weak, it was a branch but it will do. And it does.</p>
<p>She makes it across the ravine falling off the broom and sliding in the snow. She tosses the broom over the edge and scrambles on her hands and knees into the trees. She makes it far enough into the trees and squats behind a rock. She can hear them coming. They're just on the other side of the cliff. Maybe forty meters away, they are loud and they are fools.</p>
<p>Now she can see them, they peer over the edge of the cliff. One lifts their mask, she thinks its Crabbe Sr. damn it. She almost had him two months ago. She can sense their disbelief. They see her boot marks in the snow where she jumped. They know her as the girl who cannot fly. They should know better. She shuffles back on her feet still crouched. She looks back one last time at death and leans to her left. She grabs a small rock and lifts it grabbing a portkey she left there a week earlier. In this moment she looks at life, at least for now.</p>
<p>Hermione might be a madwoman, but she is free.</p>
<p>
  <strong>July 7, 1997</strong>
</p>
<p>He couldn't do it, he had failed. He wasn't sure if he had failed himself, his family or the dark lord. But maybe it's all for the best. That's what he tells himself, because what else can he say to justify what he's done. Maybe he's just a coward. Now, now he waits. Snape said he'd come for him, but he never said when. Its been a week and all he's done is hide. He keeps asking himself how he got here. A small villa on the side of Italy, he’d been there the moment after Snape had killed Dumbledore for him. A portkey had been slapped into his hand, and a note shoved in his pocket.</p>
<p>
  <em>See you soon.                                                                                                                                              </em><br/>
Sit tight.<br/>
~S.S.
</p>
<p>That was all it said. He'd been waiting ever since. He had been restless for a year, and now, now it was worse. He was growing impatient. A week by himself would have been nice, but he had more than enough to worry about. His mother frequently. He probably worried about her the most, he only agreed to take the mark and his mission so his mother could see Lucius again. Narcissa was struggling without him. Crumbling before his eyes, and now, it was probably worse because of him.</p>
<p>All he could do was hope that the Dark Lord wouldn't take it out on her. But he didn't have much hope. So for a week, he pretended he was somebody else. Or at least he tried. He tried to read, he tried to eat but he couldn't all he could do was sleep and worry. When he looked at himself he didn't recognize the reflection. For as bad as he looked at school, now he looked worse. He had lost more weight, he was an even bluer shade of grey, his eyes were bloodshot and his eye bags... yah his eye bags were something else.</p>
<p>So, of course, that night when Snape came for him, the first thing he said. "You look... well."</p>
<p>He clenched his jaw and rolled his neck at that comment but said nothing about it. Instead, he asked about his mother. That was when Snape told him. Draco Malfoy was dead and needed to stay dead. He couldn't stay in Italy either, he needed to leave. The plan was simple, but not foolproof. For it to work, he would have to do nothing and everything. It was all for- her his mother, he couldn't live with himself knowing he caused her harm. He would take the vow for her if he could but there wasn't time.</p>
<p>He had to leave. He was given instructions that he would have to follow. They were in writing more than anything else, Snape didn't speak much and didn't have time. Snape was meant to be retrieving evidence of his death. He wasn't sure exactly how it was to be done but it involved his wand, his clothing, a chunk of his hair that Snape ripped from his head without asking or warning and his ring. He didn't know how it would be done without a body but Snape told him not to worry and not look back.</p>
<p>Within all of ten minutes, a final goodbye and a burning scalp Snape had again left him with a crack. He fumbled with the scroll in his right hand and the sack in his left. He set the sack down and unrolled the parchment.</p>
<p>*</p>
<p>
  <em>Blue first stay one night</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Green six days</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Silver one night</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Gold four days</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Magenta one night</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Look after yourself, if I need you in this time I will come but don't wait for me. It should be handled. I hope I don't have to hear from you again or about you unless its in mourning. Do not return to Britain, stay out of the wizarding world. The farther the better.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>~S.S. </em>
</p>
<p>Then he moved to the sack. It was black, be pulled the string and it fell open. Five wrapped objects wrapped in cloth sat in the corresponding colours and a wand not unlike his own. When he grabbed it he felt his magic stir, not as strong as how he felt holding his own. This one he would guess was more yielding than the former. He knew then what the colours meant. They were portkeys, he was leaving now. Not because he was told to but because he needed to move, he had been sedentary for a week and he was over it.</p>
<p>He went to the room he had been staying in and grabbed shoved everything into his leather satchel, he scanned the room and took a book, Snape wouldn't miss it he had plenty of books. Hogwarts a history. He didn't even like the damn book but he wanted something to connect him to who he was especially if he was dead. He went back to and put the sack Snape had left him in his bag securing it first with a knot. He put some food in his bag and stood there for a moment.</p>
<p>This was it, more likely than not his last moment in Italy, his last moments in Britain had passed, his last moment with his family and those he called friends though he wasn't sure if they were. That was his own fault though, all of it was. He unwrapped the blue cloth, the silk material falling away and a small medallion shone back at him. He grasped it in his hand and took off, to where he didn't know nor did he care.</p>
<p>When he closed his eyes, he saw his mother he hoped it wouldn't be the last time but he didn't have any inkling that he would see her again.</p>
<p>Draco is a coward, he's sure of it.</p>
<p>
  <strong>April 1998</strong>
</p>
<p>It hurt. It all hurt. She was with her friends but Hermione felt alone. It felt like in a night she had lost nearly everything she held with value. Her parents, her education, Ginny. She would miss Ginny and the way she helped give Hermione interaction with somebody who wasn't Harry or Ron. She loved them but they could be a lot to deal with. This would no doubt be the worst year of her life. They spent the year hunting for Horcruxes. With Harry, they found them easily, but they were less easy to destroy, and when the sword of Gryffindor appeared she thanked the gods. It was the first good thing to happen to her.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Ron was getting on her last nerve, he had stomped all over Harry's days ago. She had probably done the same to both of them. They had been together secluded for too long. She heard a yell, and then they were running. She only had time to stuff half of what they needed into her bag. It swung in the air on her shoulder smacking her in the back with each step. She didn't have time for shoes, and with each step she took, the pine needles dug into each foot, her feet were bleeding, she could feel it. She spun around and sent a stinging jinx at Harry. It would have to do they had no other option. Snatchers were near and even though she was sending hexes behind her, it wouldn't be enough. Somebody grabbed her arm, and she felt the tug of a portkey as something was slammed into her palm. </p>
<p>-</p>
<p>It hurt again, this time physical. It took all she had to stay awake. She could hear muffled screams, Ron, he was far. She was alone. When she looked up Narcissa couldn't look at her, Lucius was chewing the inside of his cheek. Bellatrix's laughter filled her ears, she felt like it was possessing her brain. One more minute of cruciatus and she could close her eyes that is what she told herself. They hadn't been able to tell it was Harry, at least she had gotten that right. Then it stopped. And as soon as the pain stopped and she had a moment to breathe her arm began to burn. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. The pain was unbearable. When it stopped she looked over at her arm. In crimson mudblood. Her heart broke.</p>
<p>It all happened so fast, she didn't know how she had the strength but she lunged forward away from Bellatrix and the chandelier. Somehow they made it out. But then she saw Dobby, and Harry, the heartbreak in his eyes.</p>
<p>Hermione was a broken girl, but she had a mission.</p>
<p>***</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This was written while I was skiing on a half gram so it's most likely all over the place. Apologies. Fell free to let me know what you think. I'm going to try and keep it chronological. somehow I made a full outline so I know where it's going. As for the first entry that was written in the future on purpose, it will all come around and connect not to worry. This is a slow burn but it will move faster than the other one I'm writing. Taking a week off of that one tho, I wrote a 9000-word chapter that I can't figure out how to split so I needed a break.  It will also be past tense 1997-2000. then present. ill do my best no promises. Also, this one was short the next will be much longer this was written in one sitting no edit high out of my mind.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Manners, Maketh, Muggle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco is left to his own devices after failing Voldemort.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>***</p>
<p><strong>1997</strong>  </p>
<p>He was exhausted, his bones ached within his body. The portkey had taken him into a room landing on his back. Where? He sat up and looked around, the walls were brick, it was dark, there were large windows, it was night. He moved to get up and peeked out the window. No, it was not night. It was the middle of the night when he left Italy, but here, he could see the signs of the sun, it was early morning.</p>
<p>He slid back against the wall and sat back down examining the rest of the room. It was empty for the most part, in the far corner there was a couch, in the other a small table with a single chair, and on the wall behind him a single door. He wanted to get up and explore the room behind him, but his legs were tired. He was so tired, and now he wasn't waiting anymore. He had a night, he had time before he was meant to travel again. Now, at this moment- he was tired. Finally. He pulled his tired body up and went to the couch, it was leather, cool to the touch, but not uncomfortable. He laid back, falling asleep within moments. It was the fastest sleep had decided to grace him with her presence in years and it felt wonderful.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>He woke up to chaos, or at least that was what he first felt. The building tumbled beneath him, the air felt thick and the sounds made his ears ring. It must have only been a few hours that he had slept, the sun had risen to the middle of the sky. Sleep had comforted him, he hadn't dreamt but he was nowhere near fully rested. He was alert, but only out of obligation. He needed to protect himself, so those he loved could survive. He surely didn't deserve it but they did. Standing he went over to the window. He peeked through the grey curtains, he was high up. Really high up, he gulped. He loved to fly, being up in the air, but he didn't have the security of a broom. Here only the glass stood between him and what looked like a drop higher than the astronomy tower.</p>
<p>He braced his hands against the glass and looked down. Down was terrifying not because of the distance but because of the people and the colours. So he looked at the sky and breathed. He thanked Salazar that Snape only had him staying one night here, it was a lot. As intelligent as he was, this place was unfamiliar. He didn't know where he was. He wasn't one to like the unknown. He went towards the single door.</p>
<p>His hand felt cold, it was becoming numb. Cracking his knuckles he held his hand near the doorknob again, he wanted to open it but he didn't know if he was alone, where it led, what was on the other side. He once considered himself to be brave, but that part of him was lost. He would do it, he told himself he would. If he didn't it would all fail. He wrapped his fingers around the doorknob and turned it.</p>
<p>The door creaked open. It was a kitchenً. Like the last room, it had a high ceiling with brick walls, but unlike the last room, this one was much more furnished. The wall opposite of the floor-length windows had cabinets and objects he vaguely recognized from muggle studies. Parallel to the wall was marble island with bar stools. He stepped towards it looking at a scroll that had been left there. It looked like the one Snape has left for him yesterday and it had his seal.</p>
<p>He unrolled it. It was more than the last. Something about it gave him reassurance, he had a need for knowledge whether it was academic or about what was happening in the world. He did not like being left in the dark, especially when it involved him, or those he choose to care about.</p>
<p>
  <em>Draco,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>In some ways, I do hope you are reading this. It means you are yet to have blood on your hands, a death entirely based upon your actions. Count yourself lucky, but only for a moment. Because if you are reading this it means you have to run. Dumbledore knew and did for some time. He asked me to kill him for you, to save you.<br/>This is why this letter is in your hands. I have written it after leaving his office. He knows what has to be done, I know what has to be done, and now so will you. I have prepared a series of safe houses for you. After you leave the last you will be on your own. If you fail at killing, because that is how the Dark Lord will see it. Failure rather than saving yourself. You will need to go. You will be dead in a sense. Dead to the wizarding world until this ends. If the right side wins you may be able to live. I do hope it doesn't escape you what side that is.<br/>I will have given you a bag. It has a wand, there is no trace, and as you are underage and cannot use yours. But you won't have it anyways, I will. Why doesn't matter, it's best you do not know how we have faked your death.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>For now, you are far away, in a muggle neighborhood in New York. Welcome to America Draco. You will not be here long, it's too bad you won't be able to enjoy the city. But it is best you say hidden. Even after you are alone. Do not dwell on the past, make yourself into a new person. Live, you have almost made it to freedom.<br/>It may not be the freedom you wanted. But you have it so take it.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Stay safe.S.S. </em>
</p>
<p>New York. That's where he was. He stepped towards the windows in the kitchen, it was beginning to make sense. The lack of furniture, the thick curtains, this place. It was temporary, just a place for waiting. He just wasn't sure what he was waiting for yet. He had an idea but it was foggy. For all the stress and pain he had been under, he didn't appreciate being left out of the picture. Dumbledore knew he knew. Finding this out was unsettling, it explained why his headmaster didn't seem bothered to see him there that night. He felt like an idiot. But it didn't really matter anymore.</p>
<p>He looked down again, the muggle city was all movement, it made his stomach churn, they didn't know what was coming to them and the evil that was succeeding in a world so close to theirs. When he left, Voldemort was living in his home. He planned in his home, killed, controlled, all of it. He wasn't meant to know everything the Dark Lord had planned but he knew far more than he was supposed to. He knew of the plans the Dark Lord created for muggles, the way in which they would be used. Which cities would be created as proxy capitals for his new regime. This was one of them. While he had never been to New York and dismissed most of what was taught in muggle studies, he did know that this city had importance for muggles and the wizarding world alike.</p>
<p>He looked down for a long time. He knew he would never be here again, and if he did there was a good chance it wouldn't look like this. He did his best to not imagine what that would be like, instead he watched. He watched the city move, people weaving in and out of one another, each on their own mission, muggle vehicles zipping around. The movement and noise didn't appeal to him, but he understood why it would for others. It was life all of it, the city was alive, the people were alive, the colours, even the sidewalk. He didn't know where he was going but he knew where he was and revelled with that knowledge, it was reassuring to think about. From where he sat he could place his physical body in the world. It was a good distraction from having to consider who he was in the world, to himself, those he cared about, and where he would be. He had too much to think about so he just watched. He watched until it got dark.<br/>His eyelids were beginning to feel heavy, so we pulled himself away from the window. Taking a last look at the city below him that had morphed from moving colours to dim lights. He returned to the room he had first arrived in taking the new letter with him and placing it on the table next to his bag. He laid back down on the couch and closed his eyes, surrendering himself to sleep.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <strong>Day One</strong>
</p>
<p>He woke up before dawn. There was never a need for him to set an alarm anymore, his body knew when to wake. He always slept light, maybe he never really slept, because the smallest sound would wake him, and he would be wide awake. He sat on the couch until he knew it was day and his cue to depart.</p>
<p>He grabbed his bag and pulled out the green cloth. He considered it for a moment, he wasn't one to hesitate, but he would have appreciated Snape letting him know where it was he would be spending nearly a week. Of course, it was clear why it couldn't be written down, none the less, he would have liked to know. He pulled the string around the cloth and it slipped away revealing an ivory piano key. He tugged the fabric barrier and closed his hand. He felt his body shift and his navel tug, he closed his eyes feeling slightly nauseous.</p>
<p>He slammed into the ground, landing on his hands and knees. He was rather adept at travelling by prortkey, but he was unprepared to land on uneven ground let alone outside. He felt the dry grass under his hands and pushed himself to a sitting position. His eyes stuttered open, blinded by the bright light of the rising sun, his arm rose to block it out.</p>
<p>He was in a field, no a valley surrounded by mountains, a small yellow cabin not a hundred feet to his left, and behind him, a rather shitty looking wooden fence spanned as far as he could see. He sat there for a few minutes longer, letting his eyes adjust and his body recover from the travel. Finally, he stood, he assumed that the cabin was meant for him, there was nowhere else to go. The grass crunched beneath his feet and danced at his ankles as he moved through it towards the house. He didn't see a path he was meant to take, nor did he see a door as he approached. He circled the small structure until he found a white door. He walked onto the porch and pulled the screen door open, and pushed the wood door behind it open as well. The hinges creaked and the door wabbled. The first room was a mudroom with a second screen door that looked into the living room.  The room was orderly and much more livable than his previous location. It would do but it was small for his standards. He continued past the living room and into the kitchen, it was full of muggle appliances like the last. On the counter a new letter.</p>
<p>
  <em>Draco,</em>
</p>
<p><em>I do hope you enjoy your stay here. It was one of my favourite places to visit when I was younger, I cannot be too specific in where you are in case prying eyes come across this letter. You are still in the states. In a state that would be important to remember when you are on your own. Wyoming. Beautiful isn't it? Do not expect to come across anyone in your time here, not many live here and you are isolated. You may have noticed, there were no roads when you arrived, this cabin is very much in the middle of nowhere and there are muggle repelling charms. The magical world is nonexistent here for the most part. This is your time to relax and learn, I'm sure you excelled at muggle studies but I must ask you to review for my own peace of mind.</em><br/>Draco rolled his eyes, Snape did know how he felt about that class. Funny, he was trying to joke. Snape's sarcasm wasn't lost in writing.</p>
<p>
  <em>I have left several texts and information here for you to use. It is in your best interest to take in this information, it will assist you wherever it is you are because it won't be the wizarding world for quite some time if my suspicions are correct. Feel free to explore the nature around you, there is a small hiking trail behind you, you will come to find the population in the forest here is much more kind than those near Hogwarts. If you come across any mention my name and you will be fine. For your stay here you will need to learn how to operate muggle technology if you don't want to starve or succumb to boredom.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Kitchen<br/>- I do hope you paid enough attention in class to be able to identify a fridge. I won't hold out hope. It's the tall white structure. The right half keeps food cool, the other half keeps it frozen. If you need to know more its in the books I have left you.<br/>- The stove may be more difficult for you. It will cook food for you, it works with a flame. It's to the right of the fridge. There are four burners each has a dial, you will have to turn them all the way to the right to light it and then back down a bit. Please turn it off Draco. I would prefer to come back to my cabin not being burnt to the ground<br/>-If you find the stove to intimidating there is the microwave. It's to the left of the fridge, it has a control panel with numbers. If you want to make something to eat there will be instructions on how to use the microwave to cook it. Again more information is in the books I left you.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Living room<br/>-There is a record player, it's the same as any used in the wizarding world, however, all it does is play music. I have left records on the shelves.<br/>-TV, now this one Draco I do believe will challenge you. Its a newer muggle technology and isn't taught extensively at Hogwarts, but I have come to enjoy it. It's much too complicated for me to explain so please look at the books. It is a form of entertainment. Take this time to learn about it, it will most likely be in any place you stay.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>That is all for now. Keep your wand near but only use it when needed. There is not much magic used here, so using a lot may get you noticed. A small amount will be fine but only when necessary.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Stay safe.<br/>S.S. </em>
</p>
<p>He folded the letter and placed it with the other in his bag. Moving around the counter he approached the fridge, it was as Snape had described. He grasped the handles and pulled the doors open. They were full of food, most of it he recognised, fruits and vegetables, but there were others he didn't most likely muggle. He closed the door and inspected the stove, again it resembled Snape's writing. He grasped a knob in his fingers and tried to turn it, it wouldn't. He stared at it for a moment longer before leaving the kitchen opting to go upstairs and explore the rest of the cabin. The stairs were on the left side of the kitchen, he reached the top and found that it was similar to a loft overlooking the living room. To the left there were two doors, the first was a room with two beds, one a bunk bed the other a queen. The room was simple with a closet, a desk and a lamp. He moved back to the hallway, finding the other room much more to his liking. It had a single king-sized bed, its own bathroom, a closet and a desk. The desk had four books on top of it. The books Snape had left him. He looked at them, they were all about muggles. Unlike other parts of the home, they weren't layered with a thin amount of dust, meaning Snape had been there recently to leave them for him.</p>
<p>The books were not large, the content was muggle, three of the books were magical, the fourth wasn't. The first was centred around muggle technology, the second muggle fashion, the third muggle culture and lifestyle. The fourth though perplexed him, it was thinner and flimsy with a sheen to the cover. He knew he had seen these before, magazines? Slytherin girls would sneak them in the dorms with explicit tips on how to please a wizard, Slytherin boys alike, Blaise and Theo had them too, Playboys he had definitely seen those in the boy's dormitories. He stilled a moment worried about what Snape had left for him. The cover seemed non-threatening and innocent enough.</p>
<p>He stopped himself considering. He had six days, just shy of a week he could start tomorrow. For now, he wanted a real distraction. Something to clear his mind, so he could forget everything. Himself, who he had left behind, what he had left behind, the why of it all.</p>
<p>-<br/>It was early afternoon and he had distracted himself well. He had walked the entire perimeter of the fence, and it had taken him two hours. He knew that Snape told him he was welcome to walk the trail that left the property, but he wanted to leave that for another day, for today he wanted to walk the perimeter. He observed the wooden fence, it was as shitty as it had looked from far away, rotting and deteriorating, but never completely failing. He reasoned that Snape had probably charmed it to not fall over but had failed to do something about the quality of the wood with the damage the elements would bring. He ran his fingers across the splintered wood, it was warm from the sun beating down on it all day. Returning to the cabin wasn't something he wanted to do, it would mean he needed to work with the muggle technology. He wasn't necessarily opposed because they were muggle that was just half of it, no, no it was because he didn't know how to work it. He could just use magic, he knew how to use magic, and he was sure that it was both superior in efficiency and effectiveness. But as Snape had said, if he were to hide, and to live, it would have to be done with minimal magic usage. He pushed himself off the portion of the fence he had been leaning on and stalling and made his way back to the cabin.<br/>Inside he retrieved the first book from the bedroom and took it to the kitchen. Microwave, huh, he was hungry, Snape had said it was easy to use so he would start there. He quickly found the section of the book that explained the device. It was as the letter described, it would heat up food with corresponding instructions. He moved over to the pantry inspecting the food, this time he didn't recognise anything, with the book in his hand he skimmed more. How the fuck was somebody supposed to know what microwave food looked like? He scowled at the book, then the food and back at the book again. He continued skimming, there was nothing on the microwave section that specified which foods were appropriate, he slammed the book shut. Useless. He bent over examining the food, it all had labels, but which were appropriate to be microwaved was unclear. He fiddled around with a rectangular box, it had words all over it but none were instructions. He found a smaller cylindrical container and read the label, bingo.</p>
<p>It seemed simple, a one-two-three. One two actually, one add water, two microwave for three minutes, three eat. He chuckled to himself, muggles were so simple. He moved out of the pantry filling the container and putting it in the microwave. He stared at the device, assuming it was as simple as Snape had let on, then he should push the three-button, but he really didn't know. He reopened the book and read once again. Yes, yes, the three-button would work... probably. He pushed the button and the machine whirred to life, lighting up and humming. He honestly couldn't help himself, even though the book advised against looking at the machine while it worked, it was enticing. The light and the noise fascinated him. The microwave stopped and beeped, he took a step back startled. Nothing in the book had informed him of it making such a noise. He slowly opened the machine and grabbed his food. He peeled the top off and looked at it. It looked edible and smelled alright, he sought out a fork and spoon.</p>
<p>Upon finding silverware he sat at the table, putting a napkin in his lap, he used the spoon to collect some of the soup. He spat it everywhere, never in his entire existence had anything he had eaten been so hot. He blinked at the food, what were muggles doing consuming the scalding meal? They must be trying to kill themselves or just plain stupid. He went back into the kitchen grabbing a bowl and filling it halfway with ice. He poured the rest of the meal in, mixing it with his fork. He studied the food, perplexed, he was hungry, but he also valued his tastebuds. With an apprehensive hand, he used the fork to collect a single noodle. He looked at it for a moment longer before bringing it to his mouth. Laughing at himself, sitting in the middle of nowhere, using muggle technology to eat muggle food, he finished the rest of the meal while reading the book Snape had left him on muggle technology. He decided that he would brave it and use the stove the next day. He would admit to himself later that while the meal was too salty, it also didn't taste half bad.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <strong>Day Two</strong>
</p>
<p>The path was what exactly like he expected and completely different. It was lighter than the forbidden forest, but there were trees everywhere pine and spruce trees lining the path. He took his time starting in the morning, secretly hoping he might come across somebody as Snape had mentioned. He was growing tired of being alone. The farther he made it on the trail, the less likely he felt he may run into somebody. The trail winded between the base of the mountains before ascending up the side of the mountain. It took nearly two hours before he reached a clearing. The path continued and veered to the right, but this is where he wanted to be.</p>
<p>It was the lake that stopped him. Familiarity. It was half the size of the Great Lake at Hogwarts surrounded by forest. He found a large rock and sat on it, he pulled the magazine Snape had left him out of his back pocket and unrolled it. The cover was white with a blond woman on the front and a single word- People. He flipped through the pages skimming, stoping at pictures, it was unsettling the lack of movement. In ten minutes he had finished reading, and he was beside himself. Snape had left him muggle gossip to read. Draco rolled the magazine back up and put in in his pocket, it was useless, there was no reason for him to read again it or know the information. Snape was probably laughing wherever he was at getting him to waste his time reading it. He refocused on the lake in front of him, the trees lining the water, the sparkle every time it rippled. He stayed there until there were signs the sun was preparing to set. He wasn't too keen on running into anyone in the dark, as lonely as he was it didn't seem like a good idea.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>He stood in the kitchen examining the stove. He didn't cook often, really he could count each time he had done it on one hand. Usually, there were house-elves at home or school to do it for him, but he had been hungry enough to do it for himself over the summer. With Voldemort in his home, the elves didn't come out often and the food provided wasn't what it once was. But each time he had made something for himself, it had been with magic, there wasn't much for him to do. It was automatic, there wasn't a chance for it to burn, undercook or season incorrectly. This was much different, he would have to do it himself. He was self-sufficient almost to a fault but Snape's warning about not burning the cabin down couldn't stop him from feeling apprehensive.</p>
<p>The book that had been left was much more detailed than it had been on the microwave when it came to the function of the stove. There were many steps, recipes for beginners, the ins and outs of how to time everything properly. He almost wished he had done this the night prior as it felt more comfortable and familiar. It reminded him of potions, the measuring, timing and mixing. He didn't think he would hate it at all. He found one of the easier recipes: buttered noodles. He pulled what he needed from the pantry and fridge and began.</p>
<p>Not only was he successful in making his meal, but he also didn't burn his tongue and the pasta wasn't too salty. He applauded himself for getting it right. For all of the things Snape had suggested he do in his time at the cabin, he had a feeling this would be useful.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <strong>Day Three</strong>
</p>
<p>He woke up the following day with a full stomach. Judging by the sun it was midday, he didn't like to let himself sleep in but he had forced himself back into bed earlier that morning, there wasn't much else there for him to do. The muggle technology didn't interest him that much, but without the ability to use magic he would have to find other ways to entertain himself. Or maybe that's just what he told himself in justifying using the tv.</p>
<p>He pulled out the same book and read the section on muggle entertainment. He moved to the device looking for the power button, and he found it on the right side. He pressed it with the pad of his thumb and the screen blinked to life. He stared at it, it was much too bright and it didn't do what the book had said, there was no movement. He scoffed, the machine was obviously faulty.</p>
<p>Ok, so maybe he felt a little disappointed which led him reading the section of the book again and realizing he needed to use something called a remote. He found it rather easily sitting on the coffee table and began to flip through the channels. To say the lease he was engrossed. He sat there for hours fully captivated by the muggle technology, he found infomercials, soap operas, talk shows, he really liked the talk shows. He stayed stated on the couch, and after he ventured into the kitchen to make pasta with marinara this time, he ate that on the couch too.<br/>For as primitive and simple as muggles were, their entertainment was noteworthy. When he found a sports channel, he even secretly wished quidditch would be recorded in a similar fashion.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>
  <strong>Day Four</strong>
</p>
<p>He didn't want to grow sick of the television after one day, so he opted to read the other books Snape had left for him. He dug into the one about muggle lifestyle. He would never choose on his own initiative to read about the topic, but the rest of the house was empty of books. Snape was rather manipulative when he needed to be and it seemed that he had come to the cabin to remove all other books. There were bookshelves in almost every room, and they were all also empty. The shelves weren't dusty meaning, books had been there, so now he was forced into reading the only books that were there.</p>
<p>The book was large and took up most of his day. He read about many topics. He read about modes of transportation, primitive, different types of music, fascinating, different sports, interesting, communication he stopped there. For the most part, the book talked about holidays, how they interacted and social norms but the modes of communication sounded important. He marked the section and returned to it after he had finished the rest of the book.</p>
<p>He read about homophones, pagers, flip phones. and email. All of it confused and excited him. He considered himself and magic to be superior to muggles, and he was confident in that judgement. However, he thought that maybe these devices could outperform an owl, which wasn't inherently magical. So no muggles weren't superior to wizards, but it did seem they had communication devices that could out communicate an owl.</p>
<p>For dinner he gave the microwave a second try, making himself a meal out of the freezer. He had discovered many items in the freezer some with instructions, others meant to be heated by the stove and frozen treats as well. The mashed potatoes were discussing, he couldn't place what it was but the didn't taste right, they were an insult to the Three Broomsticks. What he wouldn't do for a hot meal at the Three Broomsticks.</p>
<p>
  <strong>Day Five</strong>
</p>
<p>He was growing to like the cabin. It was plain and small but it did the job. It would have been more enjoyable had somebody else been there with him, but he was often more annoyed by the company of others than he was comforted. Still, it would have been nice to have somebody to talk to. By noon he found himself back on the trail, he stayed by the lake long enough to see deer and bison visit the opposite side. They weren't magical creatures but he still appreciated being able to see them and the life within the forest.</p>
<p>When he returned to the cabin he reread the book about muggle culture. He stopped at the section about sports, he read about American football, soccer, tennis, they fascinated him. He turned the tv on and found the corresponding sports. He watched each for some time, they did remind him of quidditch, they were nowhere near as complicated or sophisticated, but nonetheless, they were entertaining. That night he made himself tomato soup, it took much longer than magic to heat up, but the stove did the job and the soup was good.</p>
<p>
  <strong>Day Six</strong>
</p>
<p>He spent most of the day outside. The sun was hot, and he appreciated the warmth, he preferred the cold but it was nice for a change. He was anxious to leave, he was eager for a new setting but he also didn't hate the cabin. He spent the day organising his things, not that he had much or had unpacked it in the first place but he couldn't leave anything behind. Snape probably wouldn't miss the books, so he took those as well, his satchel was becoming heavier. Nothing a simple feather-light charm couldn't fix.</p>
<p>The rest of the afternoon he sat on the couch with the tv on, one of the talk shows he didn't mind played. He flipped through the book about muggle fashion aimlessly. there wasn't much of a point to the book other than documenting the progression of muggle fashion. He got to dress ware, this he might like. The suits were similar to wizarding robes, he could appreciate the attention to detail and crisp edges of the clothing. If he did have to go into the muggle world at least he would be able to find something presentable to wear. He ate a bag of crisps and enjoyed the rest of his show. By the time he went to bed, he was fully anxious to leave the following morning.</p>
<p>Even in another world, Draco was a wizard.<br/>***</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I dont have much to say other than im panick uploding all my fics here</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chaos Ensues</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The final battle begins.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>***</p><p>
  <strong>April 1998</strong>
</p><p>The first two weeks of April flew by, with each day she could feel it creeping closer. Smaller battles leading up to a larger one. Just days after she had escaped the Malfoy manor she had put herself to work. Her arm burned every day, whether it was in her head or real, she didn't know. But she desperately needed a distraction, she needed to keep her mind occupied so that it wouldn't drift back to her time in the woods, at the manor, or the losses she had felt prior to any large battle.</p><p>She thought Kingsley was doing a relatively good job, in the time she had spent hunting Horcruxes a base had been set up. It was a large mansion in a muggle farm town, unsuspecting and separated enough. Harry had been upset initially wanting it to be 12 Grimmauld Place but Kingsley thought that would be too obvious, and she could feel it, he was right. Fourteen safe houses had been set up as well, most in muggle neighborhoods, some were flats others town-homes. They functioned well with floors connecting each home to the ministry where they could retrieve a portkey if needed to the base.</p><p>She wouldn't admit it to anyone, but her first few moments in the base were terrifying. The chaos of it was exhilarating, Aurors and wizards running around, the hushed voices and closed doors. But it was what it meant that terrified her. They were moving towards something and it truly scared her. She wanted it to be over but the manner in which it ended had her uneasy.</p><p>
  <strong>14 days</strong>
</p><p>She didn't sleep that night it was her third day staying at a safe house. They were all full, Kingsley didn't allow anyone to sleep at the base in case it was discovered. It would leave them too venerable. The flat she was in was uncomfortable, it made her skin hot, it was cramped. Three rooms and sixteen people was too much, that's when the sitting and waiting had become too much. Harry argued with her but she needed to be doing something. Kingsley took her to Lupin that day. She was the brightest witch of her age, after all, they may as well use her intellect to prepare.</p><p>
<strong>10 days</strong>
</p><p>She woke with a purpose each morning. She watched the sunrise, made her cup of tea, showered and left before most of the others were awake. By eight she sat in a room on the second floor of the base between Lupin and Moody. They made her feel important, listened to her ideas and approved some of them. Other days they gave her specific tasks, and she was grateful. Some she knew were busy work for the days they didn't actually need her to do things other days, her task had a purpose. It made her feel alive. After her meetings, she made her way to the basement where they all trained. She was smart, but magic used in war was not something she had been preparing for at school. None of them had.</p><p>
  <strong>7 days</strong>
</p><p>Harry and Ron had a task of their own. She helped them each night, but during the day she continued with her own. They were focused on the Horcruxes, she was sick of them, they were important but it was nice to have a break after thinking about them constantly for days on end. So during the day, she helped around the base, and at night, when everyone was too worried to sleep, and couldn't stop their mind from giving them too much or too little hope she assisted with the Horcruxes. Harry had a list of places the diadem could be, she counted forty-six. Forty-six.</p><p>He handed her the paper and she stared at it for longer than she should have. If they were going to win they couldn't check each of these locations. Harry was asking for her opinion on which were probably incorrect and she wanted to help, but she would never forgive herself if she got it wrong.</p><p>"Harry."</p><p>"Hmm?"</p><p>"I think," She paused making sure she was willing to gamble this much. "They haven't told me but I've been in the base with them all week and... well You-Know-Who took over Hogwarts after Dumbledore passed. It makes sense to train soldiers but from what I've overheard, its more than that. The school is surrounded by dementors and full of Deatheaters." She looked at him. "Harry it's full of them, why would he have so many there if he didn't have a reason? I think it's there, it makes sense and we could cross off quite a few of the locations you have listed."<br/>
Harry looked at her for a moment. He grabbed the parchment from her and read it over before picking up a quill and looking up.</p><p>"You're sure?"</p><p>She shook her head, "I wish I was but, its the best we have. At least for tonight if we want to get somewhere."</p><p>He crossed out all the locations outside of Hogwarts.</p><p>
  <strong>6 days</strong>
</p><p>When she woke her arms were sore from training the day before. She was a quick learner and it was a new source of pride. When she was younger she never excelled at sports, but it seemed that when she was given a big enough ultimatum she could perform just fine. The training was mostly magic, but some included physical exercises. They practised for hours often skipping lunch or dinner especially if meetings were short. Basic healing charms were repeated each night, binding and stunning spells, formations and weather or not they should stun. It was unspoken but they knew what the alternative was, stun or kill.</p><p>
  <strong>4 days</strong>
</p><p>"Harry? Ron?" Her lungs burned as the ran into the flat. She had sprinted from the apparition point to the front door and she didn't doubt it was less than three miles. "Harry? Ron?" The Auror glared at her over his newspaper, she knew she was yelling, but it was important.</p><p>Harry swung the door open and stepped out a frantic Ron popping out behind him.</p><p>"Hermione are you alright?" He started to move towards her.</p><p>Her arm rose and she pointed back to his room while sucking in air. "Put your shoes on, you have to come with me. Now."</p><p>They were out in less than a minute. "We can't talk for long, the floors have been closed all day and I had to run here. So as soon as I'm done we have to get back. They made their way along the countryside walking at a brisk pace, but it was enough for them to communicate. "I know you were both coming for training later in the day but this has to happen now. Harry, we were right, he needs Hogwarts for something and I think we all know what that is. He was there yesterday, in person. Kingsley wants both of you at the base now, we have to figure out a way in."</p><p>By the time they made it to the apparition point, they were all heaving. She had thought running to the safe house that she had never run so fast in her life but the way back was much worse. They had used the same path she took on the way there, a small game trail through the grass just defined enough to follow. The apparition point was disgusting, to say the least, a damp and mouldy cavern under a bridge. They stood there for a moment collecting themselves before apparating to the base.</p><p>-</p><p>They stood outside of the door she turned to face Harry and Ron. "I didn't tell you anything."<br/>
They blinked at her. "You got that right?"<br/>
They both nodded. "Alright let's go in, were the last to arrive."</p><p>It was the same room she spent a large portion of her days. Everyone turned to face them, the room was silent. She made it over to her designated seat and Harry and Ron sat on the opposite side facing her. The table had been extended quite a bit to fit everyone in the room, she could feel it, what they had been building to this was no doubt, it. The final meeting before the battle. The battle, the one they had been hurdling towards since the first time she boarded the Hogwarts express, or maybe it was before that. But it didn't matter when it started, at this moment, what mattered was where they were going.</p><p>Kingsley cleared his throat, "What is said in this meeting cannot leave this room unless specified. You all have a specific clearance to be in here and I expect you act accordingly. This morning our contacts at Hogwarts communicated with us alerting to an event that took place yesterday. You-Know-Who was there yesterday, seemingly preparing for the final battle. It seems they feel they are close to ready, and as we are as well I would like to find a way to get there as soon as possible. I don't want to give them more of an opportunity to prepare if we wait longer. They are unaware of our knowledge, meaning at this point we have the upper hand. We will have to prepare more than we have previously for the next couple of days because we will be going to Hogwarts on the second."</p><p>She gulped, merlin that was only in four days, no three honestly as the day was already halfway over. It seemed that everyone was having the same thought, attention stuck on Kingsley waiting for his instructions.</p><p>"We have quite a few contacts in the school that will assist in getting us into the school, and as there are still two Horcruxes out there, we can't waste a second. Our plan must be perfect and must, be executed exactly."</p><p>The plan was rather complicated but outlined in a way that didn't make it seem impossible. It began with those in the castle, they had to act as though they didn't know anything was going on while simultaneously making a way for the order to enter the castle undetected. Upon creating a distraction to get into the castle, they would have to disarm, stun, and kill- if they had no other option, anyone, they saw. Then they would get as many students out as they could. There weren't that many students in the school, and those who were of age were already sneaking children out when they could. They knew that as soon as they were in the castle their time would be limited. Somebody would slip through the cracks, and there was nothing they could do. They would have an hour before death eaters swarmed the castle at the most. An hour for Harry to find the diadem and destroy it, to get all the children out, and to organize themselves.<br/>
Once death eaters were there they would use the skills and formations they had been training all in an effort to give Harry a chance to kill Voldemort, but for that to happen they would have to get rid of Nagini. That's where the students who were already at Hogwarts came in. She didn't know who, Kingsley explicitly wouldn't say, but there was at least one Slytherin on their side who had offered his hair for polyjuice so another could sneak up and kill her. Again the who wasn't included, but it was all for a reason. If one part of the plan failed the rest wouldn't work, so important information was vague.</p><p>
  <strong>1 day</strong>
</p><p>It felt like she was falling, they were moving towards the final battle so quickly. Each day felt like a blink, a flash of a camera and it was gone. She helped brew potions for the healers, pack bags for everyone to wear while battling with included minor treatment potions so they could continue fighting, trained until her muscles ripped, went over the plan, and pulled out her hair. She had bald spots from stress, she didn't need to see them to know they were there. She craved for the war to end, to have a chance to return to school, sit at the Gryffindor table again, read in the library, study until she fell asleep. That's what kept her going, maybe she was selfish, but she wanted it.</p><p>
<strong>May 2, 1998</strong>
</p><p>While training she had only made it to two battles. They were small and only after training for days. But she had done well, she had stunned and healed and done exactly what was needed. This was different, not a battle, war. She didn't know what to prepare herself for, she had an idea but it wasn't concrete, it came from muggle wars. All she knew is that there would be death, pain and destruction. She would have to remind herself that if it came between her and a death eater she would have to kill. She was too good for that, allowing them to beat her. It was more than her, she was defending all muggle-born witches and wizards.</p><p>The day began painfully early, the sun was hours from rising. Her fingers trembled as she put on her robes. Everyone wore black in an effort do go undetected from prying eyes as they travelled in the dark. They choose to enter in waves, she was among the first group with Harry, Ron, and two Aurors, five minutes ahead of the second. Their task was to find a way in. Their contact within the school had directed them to Hog's Head Inn. They took a portkey right outside of Hogsmeade where the wards wouldn't detect them. The group of five snuck around the buildings, having cast silencing charms on their feet prior to arriving. They couldn't use magic unless needed in an effort to keep their presence unknown. They knew time would run out and they needed to make it to their destination before they had to recast. They moved in the dark winding between buildings before they came to the inn and their footsteps began to hum back to life.</p><p>The stood with their backs against the building as they approached the door, one at a time they cracked it open and slid in before closing it silently. It was much darker inside than it had been outside, without moonlight to guide them they stumbled around in the dark. She stumbled and ran into the back of somebody who let out a grunt. The shuffled around making sure they all mage it inside. She gulped as she heard somebody shift above them. They stood in silence listening to each other breath. A door opened in the corridor above them and a dim orange light moved through the dark. She knew whoever it was, would be wise enough then to use magic for light, but still, she worried.</p><p>Dark blue eyes stared at them through the light. She recognised him, and as her brain began to put two and two together, Harry spoke.<br/>
"You're Dumbeldores brother." It came out as a barely audible whisper, but the room was quiet enough to hear.</p><p>The man nodded "Follow me."</p><p>They trailed behind him and made their way under the stairs and into the basement. It was dimly lit by a few oil lamps, and the man blew his own candle out.</p><p>"You can speak freely in here it was charmed before the lockdown, they won't be able to hear us." The man closed the door as the last Auror made it down.</p><p>Harry looked at the man, "You're the one who sent Dobby"</p><p>"Yes and I'd love to speak on the matter but from what I've heard there isn't much time. If you want to finish the suicide mission my brother sent you on-" He stepped to the left pulling a large painting to the side and revealing a tunnel.<br/>
"You better get going, I haven't been told much, but I will be here for the next two groups before the last apparate instead."</p><p>The group of five stepped into the tunnel and stepped inside, Aberforth peered inside muttering to himself. They stood there in the silent room waiting, for what they didn't know, but they couldn't continue without light and it wasn't being provided to them. A pounding echoed throughout the tunnel increasing in volume. A sweaty out of breath Neville emerged.<br/>
Aberforth looked less than pleased. "I don't want to say this again, but your late, if we're going to get the other groups in, you're going to have to hurry."</p><p>Neville only nodded before giving a thumbs up and gesturing for the group to follow. The panting slid closed behind them and they turned and began to run with Neville.</p><p>-</p><p>They emerged in the room of requirement and got to work immediately. The room was chaotic, filled with students and professors. All eyes were on Harry, he was their hope. She scanned the room, there weren't many children left, maybe forty, but it wouldn't be easy to sneak them out.</p><p>Immediately they set up their groups to accomplish their tasks in the little amount of time they had, the moment they stepped into the castle corridors, the clock would start counting. An hour.</p><p>Ron accompanied Neville to fetch the next group, they would need them. Hermione, Harry, the Aurors, Professor Slughorn and Luna moved in the opposite direction towards the door. They made it into the hallway before ushering out seven children shielded by a disillusionment charm they took turns casting. Now there wasn't a chance their presence was going unknown. They rounded corners staying low until they got the children to the Headmasters office. They had hoped the floo would work, otherwise, they would have to use much more difficult methods of helping the children escape.</p><p>Maybe their luck was beginning to turn around, it worked. They sent them two at a time to their homes or the base. Once they were done they began to make their journey back to the room of requirement, but at the base of the stairs, Harry, Luna, and one of the Aurors split off in search of the Horcrux.</p><p>The room of requirement was even busier, Harry's arrival marked the beginning of the end. It was about to be over one way or the other, they could all feel it. Ron and Neville were back with the second group which would make it easier to help move the children out. With five extra wands, they made it back to the office with ease.</p><p>The moment they left the office they knew they were screwed. The group of eight was faced with dementors and professors alike. The Deatheaters had yet to arrive but could arrive in a moments notice. They had hoped for more time, there were at least two more groups of children and they wanted time to get rid of as many professors that supported Voldemort as possible.<br/>
They sprang to action immediately each casting a Patronus or shield. The dementors were repelled but they could hear more moving towards them. The professors that had arrived were ruthless, casting dark magic and killing curses exclusively. She had no choice, that was the moment she had to take her first life. It was her or them, she couldn't look at them, didn't want to know which one of her previous professors had attempted to do the same to her. She spun around sending a protective spell causing whatever curse that had been hurled at them to hit its castor. The professor flew to the ground writhing with a gurgle, their skin began to dissolve bubbling pink until they were nothing more than a puddle. She retched.</p><p>It was silent, she looked around the professors had been held stunned or killed. She took a second look, no nobody had been stunned. She had to remind herself, they didn't have a choice. They made their way back stepping over the bodies, she made sure not to look down, so she looked forward instead. The Aurors began to vanish the bodies and scourgify the floor, ten bodies that had been on the flow disappeared. All but one.</p><p>She hadn't even noticed it but the group of eight was now seven. The last body laid on the ground, in black like the professors, covered in blood, unrecognisable, but younger. His robe was pooled above his calves, he wore trainers, not dress shoes. It was the youngest Auror that had arrived with the second group. She couldn't look any longer, she turned away. He had come to fight, to save the children, to aid the order, to see Voldemort fall, and he didn't get a chance.</p><p>She heard movement and looked behind her, his body was gone, portkeyed- to where she didn't know. The Aurors stood and continued their return, they didn't seem phased, even Slughorn continued. She reminded herself, this was war- she didn't have time to mourn the stranger, that would happen later. She wiped her tears and continued.</p><p>-</p><p>Of the last group, two more Aurors and Ron aided in getting the children to the Headmaster's office. The other three stayed to organize those who had stayed to fight while Neville took a group through the passage to create a distraction while simultaneously signalling for the rest of the order that the children had escaped.</p><p>With the children successfully evacuated they went back to the Room of requirement. She made her way through the room with one of the Aurors attempting to organize groups. She walked the perimeter of the room with him as he directed groups, they would be moving through the castle to disarm and remove as many supporters of you-know-who as they could. With the signal Neville's group made they didn't have much time before both sides arrived at Hogwarts in full force. The smallest group was sent to set up medical supplies in the hospital wing. They couldn't be optimistic, they knew it would be needed. Four other groups were formed and the Auror directed them to different areas of the Castle. She turned to him. "What group am I meant to join?"</p><p>"None you need to stay here"</p><p>She scowled and crossed her arms. "Excuse me?" She couldn't sit and do nothing, that wouldn't be an option. She couldn't handle that.</p><p>"The rest of the order will be here shortly if any of them use the same entrance we used, somebody needs to stay behind and direct them to where they're needed." He looked at her as if she just didn't get it.</p><p>"Why does that have to be me then?"</p><p>"You know them, you know their plan and you know our plan. I can't stay behind with my skill set. If Potter finishes soon this is where he'll return." He waved at her dismissing her and left with the others.</p><p>"Fucking fine then." He didn't hear it but she said it anyway.</p><p>-</p><p>She paced the room for three minutes unaware of what was going on outside the room. She didn't even know whether or not the battle outside had started.<br/>
The door to the room swung open with a furious looking Molly Weasley, Ginny and McGonagall. She ran to them.</p><p>"Is everything alright?"</p><p>Ginny pulled her into a tight embrace. "Hermione, where is everyone? Where are my brothers? Where is Harry?"</p><p>"Don't tell her." Molly had her hands on her hips. "This one is underage and doesn't need to know, she won't be fighting. What are you doing in here Hermione?"</p><p>"I stayed behind to direct anyone else who came in through the tunnel and for um.... Harry."</p><p>Ginny looked frantic. "Where is he, why aren't you with him."</p><p>She looked to Molly, unsure of what to say.</p><p>"Ginny, go sit over there, you don't need to hear this." The normally calm and sweet Molly was undoubtedly panicked. Ginny stared at her for a moment before surrendering and stomping over to the far side of the room and sitting in one of the few chairs. McGonagall and Molly spoke to her in hushed tones. She explained where everyone was and her purpose for staying behind. Molly seemed quite pleased and got her to agree to stay with Ginny until she was needed elsewhere. She wasn't keen on staying behind longer until she was reassured that death eaters had just begun to arrive moments earlier. What she was missing was the weaker death eaters, the stronger would accompany you-know-who when he arrived. So she stayed.</p><p>-</p><p>Another five minutes passed, Ginny didn't want to speak to her but folded when they negotiated, information on what Harry was doing- but not where, for what was going on outside.<br/>
They both turned as some noise began to rise from the tunnels, it grew louder and the stood with their wands raised. Just in case. They did have to be realistic.</p><p>The sound of footsteps increased, her heart beat faster. Louder. Faster. Louder. Faster.</p><p>Moody and a group of six Aurors stepped into view. Her heartbeat began to slow.<br/>
Hermione was unsure, but she would be brave.</p><p>***</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please let me know what you think so far.</p><p>I have a lot planned for this one.</p><p>Also, the dates will go away eventually but Hermione and Draco are in different timelines atm and need to be to catch up in the right way.</p><p>IDK what else to say, it just lmk if you see any errors or have questions.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Breaking Away</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Its the final battle. Hermione pushes herself to fight. She tells herself its for her friends. Somehow it all goes wrong.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>She has now been edited. Please note the violence picks up from here on out.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>***</p><p>Moody looked between the two girls. The Aurors remained standing behind him. She was able to quickly explain why the room was so empty and where groups had been sent.<br/>
 <br/>
In exchange, Moody told her that every group but one had arrived at the castle. She joined his group leaving Ginny behind but promising to come to get her if she was needed and when it ended. </p><p>They moved quickly through the castle, Moody's group was assigned the seventh floor and a second would join them soon after. Groups were assigned to each floor and would move down as they were cleared. Their group found three death eaters on the seventh floor and eliminated them easily. She found she no longer had a moral obligation to seeing them killed. Killing however felt wrong, but realistically she knew it had to be done. Like earlier, she would no doubt find herself in a situation where it was her or the enemy. Not everyone was fortunate enough to survive and she didn't want to be included. So, for the time being, she told herself, morals- they wouldn't count for anything or she may not be able to live long enough to see the end. <br/>
Moody's group got into formation- a v moving through the castle she was on the far left end. They moved down to the sixth floor not waiting for the other group, they couldn't afford to lose time. This was no longer a waiting game. She knew without a doubt Voldemort was in the castle whether he wanted them to know or not. The sixth-floor smelled of smoke and blood, metallic and smokey. <br/>
With each corner they turned they came into contact with death eaters and supporters of the opposition. They were lucky they choose to forgo robes, otherwise friendly fire would occur. Although she wasn't sure it hadn't. </p><p>The fifth floor was empty. It made her skin crawl. They continued, only crossing paths with their own. Moody paused before the stairs, "I'm sure most are outside, but we are going to come into contact with more death eaters on the way out." They continued. </p><p>She was in the back and almost didn't notice somebody approach behind her. She felt them before she saw them letting out a small squeal. Only it was Harry. None of the others had noticed and they snuck behind a corner. </p><p>She followed him finding Fred, George, Luna and Ron. They were sweaty and Fred's clothing hung off his body in a zig-zag. It had been burnt. </p><p>"Hermione you were right we found it." Harry sounded much more enthusiastic than he looked.</p><p>"You're sure?"</p><p>"Yes, it's gone."</p><p>"Where was it?"</p><p>"No time, I'll tell you after. Let's keep going."</p><p>She nodded and they continued retracing their steps to the staircase she had prepared to descend earlier. Only it wasn't there, it had been destroyed, she thought. But there was no evidence of what had been their previously, no remaining staircase and no rubble. </p><p>She turned to them panicked. "Well have to go around."</p><p>Ron frowned. "That will take ages."</p><p>"We don't have another choice."</p><p>They weren't as organized as Moody's group. They moved as more of a clump. Somebody stepped on her heel, an apology was muttered through heavy breathing. They weren't quiet. They moved like a stamped flying, no bulldozing through the halls before arriving at the other staircase. It was still there, but they would have to move down, single file, not much of it was left.<br/>
The fourth floor was nearly empty they came into contact with three death eaters. She wasn't sure who’s killing curses hit who, but they left unscathed and secretly, selfishly she hoped it wasn't hers. </p><p>When she sent a killing curse she meant it, but that didn't mean she liked it. </p><p>The group moved to the third floor. It was busier. Green streams of light moved all around them. She didn't hear a single stunning spell, while they had discussed using them earlier in the month in meetings, it seemed that they were useless. Stunning spells were like wack a mole, killing curses were like fly swatters, if you miss you try again, and when you hit your target you win.<br/>
 <br/>
The second floor was worse. She was growing apprehensive for what was waiting outside. </p><p>They were surrounded. Backs facing each other sweat spilling down the sides of her face. She wiped her face with the back of her arm before spinning to the left and sending a curse. It was now instinctual, she was protecting herself and in a sick and twisted way, her friends too which motivated her more than her own self-preservation. </p><p>When they finished they flew down the main staircase, hot on another groups trail. She could hear it all around her, she could smell it, she could feel it. She followed Harry, Luna by her side, the others behind them. They ducked into classrooms catching unsuspecting death eaters with killing curses, alternating to give their magic a break. A group of seven passed them, they did it again, it was rhythmic. They rotated sending curses. </p><p>The death eater in the back sent a curse towards them, they ducked expecting it to be a killing curse, only it wasn't. She saw a yellow light pass over them, she felt it. It burned. They scrambled out of the room fire lapping at her ankles. The bottom of her pants singed. </p><p>They moved Fred sending a curse to the death eater that they outnumbered. She kicked herself, not all of them would use killing curses. Many would utilize other dark magic attempting to rid as many of Dumbledore’s army as possible. </p><p>George cried out in pain. She hadn't noticed, his arms were badly burnt. Racking her brain she scrambled into action. </p><p>"Luna, Fred he's too badly burnt to keep fighting, take him to the hospital ward."</p><p>They nodded each slipping an arm behind his back. </p><p>She continued running after Ron and Harry. A large group of death eaters neared, but they hadn't seen them yet. The trio snuck into a nearby classroom. Only sending killing curses through the crack in the door as stragglers followed after. It was loud enough around them, they went unnoticed. </p><p>In a matter of seconds, they were all pinned against the wall unable to move. A cloaked figure entered the room. She struggled against the restraints trying to look at her friends. She couldn't see them Ron was to her left, Harry to her right. The figure stepped forward towards Harry, she wanted to scream, but doing so would most likely alert death eaters to their location. She wasn't even sure if she could. </p><p>This wasn't how she planned to die. Helpless and unable to defend herself. She held herself to a high standard and this wasn't it. </p><p>Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a stream of blue light. </p><p>She blinked it was coming from Harry.</p><p>She blinked again. </p><p>A wand flew from the figure. </p><p>She blinked again. </p><p>Blue light travelled from the figure. </p><p>She blinked again. </p><p>Something snapped, she hoped it wasn't a wand. </p><p>She blinked again. </p><p>Harry yelled. </p><p>She blinked again. </p><p>The figure moved towards the door. </p><p>She blinked again. </p><p>The figure stood unmoving facing away from them, rustling with something. </p><p>She blinked again. </p><p>She tried to speak, she couldn't. </p><p>She blinked again. </p><p>Her ears rang, Harry was still yelling. </p><p>She blinked again. </p><p>The figure pulled down his hood and removed his mask. </p><p>She blinked again. </p><p>Black hair turned towards them. </p><p>She blinked again. </p><p>The figure turned, and Snape stared at them. </p><p>She blinked again. </p><p>"I would use that wisely if I were you."</p><p>She blinked again. </p><p>Snape was gone, she slid down the wall. </p><p>She gasped catching her breath. She turned towards Harry. "What the hell was that?"</p><p>Harry looked at her, his mouth moved nothing came out. "How did you do that Harry? I couldn't move or speak."</p><p>"I... I think he wanted me to. My arms were free and I could speak. I..." Harry pulled something from his pocket. "I, I took his wand, he broke the one I had and left."</p><p>She stared at the wand in his hands. Her eyes must have been deceiving her. "Harry, that's not Snape's wand."</p><p>"I know he pulled out another one, I don't understand how I didn't get both when I disarmed him."</p><p>"Harry, that's Malfoy's wand."</p><p>"Lucius?"</p><p>"Draco"</p><p>Ron sat up straighter, "Blimey, that's Draco Malfoy’s wand. Why did he want you to have that, isn't he dead?"</p><p>She nodded. "Yes"</p><p>Ron gulped, "How?"</p><p>She shook her head, "I don't know, but we need to keep moving we haven't made it outside yet."</p><p>She stood up and moved towards the door. She turned back, Ron had followed her, Harry had not. "Harry?"</p><p>"I just, I need a moment. This isn't my wand." He looked up at her eyes wide, "how am I supposed to fight? I was just getting used to the other one."</p><p>Mentally she was now right with Harry freaking out, but she couldn't do that. "He gave it to you for a reason."</p><p>"No, he had me take it for a reason, I just don't understand." Neither did she. </p><p>Usually, her mind worked impossibly fast, processing information solving problems, but the commotion and atmosphere surrounding them was like a mental block. She racked her brain looking for possible reasons Snape had come in, practically gifted them Malfoy's wand, and broken the wand Harry had been using. She didn't know, but there had to be a purpose. </p><p>"Can you use it at least?"</p><p>"I don't know."</p><p>"Well, you should try before we leave."</p><p>He stood taller hand on his chin, glasses crooked, foot tapping. He adjusted his glasses, and again. He took them off and wiped them on his shirt. Harry put on his glasses and adjusted them. </p><p>"Harry," She looked at him, they did really need to keep moving. "we have to go stop stalling and please, please do something."</p><p>He moved circling a desk, he stood back. He rose his arm and moved the wand muttering to himself the whole time. He paused, he looked back at them and nodded before looking at the desk once more, in a flash it was no longer a desk. Instead, a silver goblet sat in the centre of the room. Harry looked up, his face was white.</p><p>Ron stepped forward inspecting the object, "Blimey, Harry how did you do that? You didn't even say anything."</p><p>She stood there unmoving, she had only seen Harry use wordless magic a handful of times and it never worked to the extent it just had. If she wasn't in the room she wouldn't have believed it, but she had seen it with her own eyes. </p><p>Harry was muttering to himself. Ron inspected the goblet. It was too much and not enough, she just didn't understand. "What, Harry what are you saying?"</p><p>"I don't get it."</p><p>"What don't you get?"</p><p>"I just don't understand."</p><p>"Yes, neither do I, but what is it you don't understand?"</p><p>"I"</p><p>She was growing impatient. Usually, she had time to work through whatever it was Harry was dealing with. Not to sound insensitive but there was usually something Harry had to deal with and she had developed acute skills in helping him. But there wasn't time and she just wanted to know what was going on.<br/>
 <br/>
"Harry, is there something wrong with the wand? because it looks like it works and we don't exactly have time to stand around doing nothing." It was a bit harsh but the needed to go outside. Maybe she just needed to go outside, she didn't know what was going on out there. Were they winning? Were they los- no she couldn't think like that. She just needed to see. </p><p>"Its, there's nothing wrong with it, its just. It works better than MY wand. It listened to me, I just. It felt like it knew me, I don't even know how but I knew that if I thought of something it would happen. It just did it for me. I don't get it. It's not my wand."</p><p>Maybe they did need to take a moment, because that, that was one of the most unbelievable things she had ever heard. Harry and Malfoy, Malfoy and Harry were nowhere near similar enough to use each other's wands and for it to go well. Her mind began to connect the dots. Dumbledore had the elder wand. Malfoy was part of the group that killed Dumbledore. It was unlikely, but it was also possible that what Harry held was the elder wand. </p><p>"Oh my gods, oh my gods. Harry, whatever you do, do not lose that wand if it's inevitable that somebody will take it, break it. You're going to have to."</p><p>"Why what's wrong with it?" Harry held it in front of his face inspecting it. </p><p>"Nothing, we thought Snape or a death eater disarmed Dumbledore but I think maybe Malfoy did. Making that" She gestured to his wand, "the elder wand. I could be wrong, but if I'm not it would explain why it worked for you so well. But you'll have to be extremely careful with it."</p><p>Harry looked at her completely stunned. "You think this is the elder wand?"</p><p>She wasn't sure. "You don't?"</p><p>"I don't know."</p><p>She nodded, "But you'll be careful?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Okay, let's keep going."</p><p>They didn't hear much outside the door, when they cracked it open they didn't see anyone. She motioned for them to follow. But she stopped abruptly and turned to face them, "We remember what to do if we get separated right?" They nodded at her, they proceeded. </p><p>They crept along the first floor, they were on the opposite side of the castle from the great hall and the larger courtyard. Only running into stragglers from both sides as most had long moved to fight on the castle lawn. </p><p>She was entirely unprepared for what she found waiting outside. Far more death eaters than she ever thought possible were present. She recoiled at the thought knowing most but not all were there. She couldn't comprehend that Voldemort would be able to recruit that many through hate and prejudice alone. </p><p>The lawn was full of light spewing from wands in every direction, people running, duelling stepping over bodies. It was still dark but the first rays of sun were beginning to emerge making it impossible to see everything. They stepped out joining the crowd, right into the thick of it. </p><p>She did her best to not get distracted by looking for familiar faces in the crowd, or by the smell. The smell was horrid, burnt flesh, dark magic and fire. It danced in her nostrils, she wanted to gag but chose to breathe out of her mouth instead. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Harry and Ron to her right. They had been outside for mere moments, their presence had not yet been picked up on. Taking it to her advantage, she stunned a death eater, taking his wand and snapping it, then proceeding to bind him with a spell they had learned while training. <br/>
She knew that killing would be more efficient however when possible, she would most certainly take the moral high ground and stun. This would be the first time she had the opportunity to do so. She turned on her heel continuing into the crowd this time she didn't have a choice, she was not expecting those that she faced to use more than just killing curses when they fought one on one. It seemed that they intended to maim, torture and play with their opponent prior. </p><p>A particularly nasty curse was hurled at her, she didn't recognize the wand movement nor the words, she ducked. Still, it sliced her cheek, it was the first she encountered that she was unable to block or duck. Her face stung and she realized that blocking spells could no longer be her go-to. She needed to be on the offensive rather than defensive. She rolled ducking the second curse not even bothering to get up before casting the killing curse. In her head, she reasoned that each death eater she had to face, their downfall would be waiting too long and attempting to amuse themselves. The thought made her sick, an individual wanting to play cat and mouse with their opponent, during war. With each curse that was hurled at her morals disintegrated a little more and she began to send the killing curse at death eaters that hadn't even raised their wand. </p><p>Soon she became so engrossed, stepping in multiple times. She saw Padma from a meter away throwing up blocking spells against two death eaters, she was clearly struggling to hold them both off. Rather than joining Padma, she killed them both from behind, not even bothering to check on Padma afterwards. Her cheek was still bleeding and she needed to make sure she was staying near Harry and Ron. Not that they couldn't look after themselves, she just worried. She found them seconds later and breathed a sigh of relief when each seemed to instinctually look up at her. </p><p>Onwards she told herself, and so she did. She ended up back to back with Luna, each fending off two death eaters. If she was opposed to killing they would have no chance, she just hoped that Luna had enough strength to hold the other two off. She worked quickly blocking spells and finding the perfect opportunity to kill each of them, a pause, a blink, a breath. That's all it took and they were taken care of. Her skills, speed and quick thinking left them on the dewy grass in puddles of their own blood. </p><p>She turned back around to assist Luna who was now only battling one. While Luna blocked she sent a final curse and the death eater landed atop another unmoving body. "What happened" she breathed.</p><p>Luna looked at her with sincerity, "He tried to kill me." Luna smiled, shrugged and continued as well. It took her a beat to understand, Luna was also no longer morally opposed to defending herself. </p><p>-</p><p>Perhaps Hufflepuffs would be the death of her. She had saved countless Hufflepuffs who refused to use more than a shielding charm and expelliarmus. She didn't want to know what had happened to those that had to defend themselves, though she had a pretty good idea. </p><p>Continuing to stay close to Harry and Ron she spotted yet another group of three Hufflepuffs who had yet to do anything useful. Had she saved them before? She didn't know but it was probable. They were fighting at four death eaters who seemed to find them quite amusing. She was pretty sure one of thee three was Hannah Abbot who was struggling the most. As she approached she realized why. Hannah's right arm was hanging at an odd angle and she was fighting with her left. Looking at the other two it seemed they must have been poorly defining themselves for quite some time. From behind she shot curses at two of the death eaters they were fighting. </p><p>Hannah seemed stunned and her protective spell faltered allowing one of the death eaters to shoot a curse at her that she barely moved away from not even trying to block. The other death eater turned around, but she was beginning to sweat and her magic trembled within her. Killing the two before, and all before that had taken it out of her. She rose her wand and just threw up a protective spell. It held and she thanked the gods. If she could she would take a break, maybe drink some water and just sit for a moment. She laughed at herself, it reminded her of muggle football practice in which she was often benched. This though was nothing like that semi-sweet memory. </p><p>Instead just like she had before she waited strategically while the death eater threw curses at her that bounced back at him. The moment she felt her spell begin to fall she shot her own curse and watched as the death eater who had not anticipated it at all fell to the ground. She turned back to the Hufflepuffs to aid them with the last death eater, but it seemed they were able to take care of him on their own. And in the distance one limped while the other assisted him, Hannah not far behind, she hoped the three were on their way to the hospital wing. Maybe like Luna she had spoken too soon for the Hufflepuffs. </p><p>Who was she to critique how others fought. </p><p>-</p><p>She could not find Harry. She could not find Ron. She had found every other redhead that was near her. Her heart skipped a beat in her chest every time she looked to a new area and couldn't find them. She fought her way to the edge of the field circling those who fought, dodging the occasional stray spell. She simply didn't see them. </p><p>In her panic, she almost forgot the rule she had made. "If we get separated we go to the hospital wing." Right. She made a mad dash for the building. She worked her way around the group without anyone noticing, everyone was too engaged in their own battles to look her way. She thanked the gods as she approached the entrance. Just as she made her ascent on the steps she lost her footing smacking her knee and chin in the process. She silently cursed and pulled herself up not even stopping to notice the blood running down her neck. Onwards she told herself. So she ran, her right foot slipping intermittently, she deduced that there was mud on her boot causing her to slip, but she just didn't have time to stop and wipe it off. She needed to make sure her friends were okay. </p><p>It was not her first time running to the hospital wing, but it was definitely the fastest she had made it there. The doors were already open and the room was beyond chaotic. Her earlier suspicions were correct and Hannah was sitting in a cot side by side by side with the two she was with earlier getting treated. She noted each bed had multiple occupants, most sitting upright. She saw two heads of red hair, they were far to the right sitting in one of the last cots. She ran towards them skidding to a halt right in front of them. </p><p>Ginny and Ron were sitting, seemingly fine. No not fine. Ron was fuming. </p><p>"Are you two alright? Is Harry in here?"</p><p>Ginny crossed her arms looking at her brother, "Yes Ron where is Harry. I already told you I just wanted to make sure you two were alright. I would have left on my own."</p><p>This upset Ron even more, "That's a bunch of Thestral shit. If I didn't take you in here myself you would be out there fighting. "</p><p>Ginny didn't even respond, she rolled her eyes and looked away from Ron. </p><p>"Harry's not in here?"</p><p>Ron shook his head, "No, Ginny came outside and found me and Harry, she started asking about you and everyone else and I dragged her in here. She wanted to join the battle."</p><p>"I did not, I was stuck inside and I wanted to make sure everyone was alright, for all I knew you were all dead out there and I was a sitting duck inside." Ginny's voice wavered at the end of her sentence, still, her face was fierce and she stared Ron down. </p><p>This wasn't good, she had just come inside to find Ron and Ginny leaving Harry outside by himself, Harry who Moody had instructed not to fight. Harry who did anyway and she didn't stop because, it was Harry and when he wanted to do something, he simply did. She prayed that he would realize she was no longer there and neither was Ron and simply choose to come find them inside. She didn't have much faith. </p><p>"I'm going back out, he can't be there alone. Please Ginny just stay in here, if you want you can help heal. That way you're contributing." She nodded and turned to leave. <br/>
Ginny stood and grabbed her arm. "Okay but let me heal you first you're bleeding."</p><p>She was bleeding? She was. She held her hand to her neck and felt the wetness, she had forgotten. She sat next to Ginny. She knew that getting to Harry was more important, but keeping Ginny inside was also important in keeping Harry sane. He had previously expressed not wanting to be responsible for deaths, this just ensured that Ginny would be safe and unharmed. <br/>
She felt the skin of her chin being pulled together, then Ginny cleaned the blood off her chin and began to work on her cheek. Impatient and wanting to get outside she began to clean and heal her knee herself. It was easy she had only skimmed the skin, it wasn't deep, and would result in a mild bruise. </p><p>Ginny grunted. </p><p>She looked down at her as her head was tiled for Ginny to work. "What?"</p><p>"Your cheek, it won't close with magic. I got it to stop bleeding, but it won't close."</p><p>"Oh"</p><p>Ginny nodded. </p><p>"Just put a bandaid on it, it can heal on its own."</p><p>"A what?"</p><p>"Never mind, it's not that bad. It doesn't even hurt." Ginny squinted her eyes at her, clearly skeptical. </p><p>"Really Gin, I'll be fine I just need to go back outside."</p><p>"Ok."</p><p>She stood, "Ron are you coming?"</p><p>He stood as well and they made their way to the door. </p><p>Not a second has passed after they passed the Hospital wing threshold before they stopped dead in their tracks. A loud distant voice carried through the castle. </p><p>"Harry Potter. I will grant your little Order a break, you have an hour to join me in the forbidden forest and surrender."</p><p>That was all that was said. She began to tremble, they were not with Harry, there was nobody to stop him. Her eyes began to fill with tears, she blinked them away and looked at Ron. <br/>
"We can't let him go, we have to find him."</p><p>Ron shook his head, "I know but he's probably going right now."</p><p>She wiped her tears away, panicked. They had to do something. Anything. </p><p>"We'll cut him off, I might have missed him outside, if he was still on the lawn then we can make it to the forest first."</p><p>So they ran, but she did clean the mud off her boot this time. She couldn't fall or slip, they had to get there. </p><p>- </p><p>The forest was silent. "Maybe he hasn't gotten here yet."</p><p>She gulped, "I think we would see somebody else here then. Ron, don't you think death eaters would be here to escort him or kill him, or hex or maim or-" She gulped. She couldn't think straight. </p><p>He just looked at her. </p><p>She pulled herself together, just enough to continue speaking. "We can't just stand here."</p><p>"Maybe he went back to the hospital wing to look for us."</p><p>"He wouldn't do that."</p><p>"I know."</p><p>"What should we do?"</p><p>"I don't know."</p><p>She didn't either. So they stood there and waited. They reasoned that maybe from outside the forest they could see something and then they would know where to go. But the forest was dense and they saw nothing. </p><p>She felt defeated. For the second time that day, and maybe the second time in her life she didn't know what to do. So she surrendered to Ron's earlier suggestion. "let's just go inside. You-Know-Who said an hour, so maybe he's inside talking to Moody." </p><p>"You can say his name, he's already here."</p><p>"Right."</p><p>- </p><p>They stepped into the hospital ward. It was silent. No longer was it commotion and chaos, instead, it seemed everyone was sitting and waiting. Meaning, no, Harry was not there. <br/>
For the next twenty minutes, they stood with everyone else. She had conceded and realized that there really was nothing they could do. If they had gone into the forest, there was little chance they would find him, and if they did, she knew deep down there was no stopping Harry Potter. </p><p>So she sat picking at her skin. She told herself, this was the final battle. Harry would face Voldemort at some point. Maybe this was it. She just felt that in some way she was letting him down. She wasn't there to support him and see him fulfill what he felt he was meant to do. For the first time in their friendship, she wasn't there. </p><p>"Its nearly been an hour. People are still going to be fighting and nearly everyone is healed. We should go back outside."</p><p>Everyone around her nodded. She stood and they moved to go outside. Everyone else in the room seemed to understand. And so, The Order went outside, why they were following her she didn't know, nor did she like it. It felt like she was leading them to the end. Their end. Maybe that was how it felt to be Harry Potter. </p><p>-</p><p>The courtyard was silent. They stood there in silence waiting.<br/>
For what? She had a few guesses, but she didn't know which one would greet them. </p><p>- </p><p>A faint rumble was increasing. A dark shadow in the distance was growing. She squinted and it grew lager. Soon she was able to make out bodies in the shadow and understand that it was a group, and it was moving towards them. </p><p>The crowd approached and her ears rang. Ginny was screaming. Ron held her back. Hagrid had a body that was definitely not Harry. She would know if it was Harry. It wasn't Harry, she would have known somehow instinctually that he was dead and she didn't. Still, Hagrid placed the body on the ground and it didn't move. </p><p>Voldemort laughed. Her skin began to crawl. She didn't even have it in her to cry. Her body felt like her bones were too heavy and her blood was too thick. She couldn't move couldn't breathe. Nobody was moving. </p><p>Voldemort stood in the middle, while she had interacted with him in other forms, this one she had never seen. And it was smiling. </p><p>Slowly her senses began to return and her body shook. Next to her Cho held her hand, granted she never really enjoyed the girl's company, right now she was eternally grateful. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks and she didn't even attempt to wipe them away. Across the courtyard, a tall and thin figure in death eater robes moved to the front of the crowd. </p><p>The figure paused but moved in such an awkward manner she could not take her eyes off of them. Slowly the figure raised their head, Adrian Pucey stared back at her with an expression she had never seen on his face before. He raised his eyebrows at her and she must have been visibly confused because he looked at her like she was stupid. He looked away from her and at the back of Voldemort's head. </p><p>She absolutely had no idea what he had tried to communicate with her. Maybe she was seeing things. But then he moved with such speed if she hadn't been already looking at him she would have missed it. He ran right to the centre of the courtyard, not even pausing before pulling something long and shiny out of his sleeve and swinging both arms. A sword? The sword of Gryffindor. In a blink, Nagini's head was on the ground disconnected from her writhing body that continued to move despite not having a head. </p><p>Voldemort turned to his left and glanced down at his dead pet. He didn't even look at Adrian as he shot a killing curse. Only it wasn't Avada. She didn't know what it was but Adrian was dead. As he fell to the ground she almost saw it happen in slow motion. His dark brown hair lightened, his face elongated, his body grew even taller, and his face was not his. Neville's lifeless face stared back at her.</p><p>She held back a scream. With everything she had seen that day, this was no doubt the worst. Cho squeezed her hand even tighter and she realized she had done the same. Even with another hand supporting her, her body trembled more. She looked back over at Harry, she couldn't stop herself. She wished he was there, standing beside her. But then she realized he wasn't. Not that he was dead and couldn't support her, no, his body was gone. </p><p>First, she concluded that the death eaters had done something to it. But no. They would want The Order to have to look at Harry dead. She held her breath. Voldemort seemed to come to the same conclusion. "Where. Is. The. Boy." He spoke in what sounded like a hiss and a snarl. He was speaking to someone in particular but his body blocked them from view. He turned slowly taking in the entire courtyard. His eyes seemed to trace everybody, meet each set of eyes. He narrowed his. He turned back clearly upset. He had come to the same end she had. The Order had not moved. Harry was either alive or somebody on his side did something with the body which she could only guess was his trophy. And his alone. </p><p>He stepped back and flung a curse into the crowd, right in the direction he was speaking to earlier. A body fell to the floor in a heap. She trembled more. Voldemort was getting rid of anyone who did something to even bother him. She assumed. He stepped forward and she got a better view of the body- Lucius Malfoy held Narcissa in his arms sobbing. Her heart constricted. She didn't like the man, nor his family, still it wasn't anything she wanted to see. </p><p>- </p><p>Her eyes searched the crowd. Clearly, Harry was here somewhere dead or alive. Maybe it was a sick joke and it wasn't Harry. Just a polyjuiced death eater here to lure them to a trap and in turn Harry. But no because Harry would be here then.</p><p>She didn't know where he was and with each second her heart broke a little more.</p><p>-</p><p>For all of five minutes, the two sides stared at each other as Voldemort taunted the order.</p><p>They were all waiting which meant neither side knew what had happened to Harry's seemingly dead body.</p><p>As mudblood whore fell from Voldemort's tongue, a familiar voice spoke from the far left of the courtyard. Emerging from the shadows. Suddenly she felt whole again.</p><p>"That's enough of that I'm here." Harry stepped to the centre of the courtyard.</p><p>"How kind of you to join us, again. You have escaped but that will be the end of that. This will be your end, Harry Potter." Voldemort licked his teeth.</p><p>Harry cracked his neck, "I could say the same for you."</p><p>They circled each other, neither moving their gaze. She didn't even see them blink. </p><p>Harry raised his wand, Voldemort raised his. Light shot out of both of their wands drowning out any other noise. It was too bright, she wanted to see what happened but her eyes couldn't take it. She looked away. When she felt the light ebb she looked again. Both were struggling. Voldemort’s magic seemed to be winning. Harry's wand took on a life of its own. As the magic began to reach Harry it exploded away from him, shooting in every direction. </p><p>She screamed. She didn't know what to make of it. Through the smoke, she ran. She found Harry. Moody and Ron were hoisting him up. Blood ran down his face, his arm was gashed but his eyes were open and blinking. Moody held out his hand. "This is the only portkey we have to the base." Moody shoved it into Harry's chest and he and Ron disappeared. She let out a breath, so relieved she didn't even realize she was meant to be there with the two of them. Like always, the three of them. She nodded at Moody. He threw his arm up blocking a spell. It seemed that the fighting had commenced. </p><p>"He's alive." </p><p>She grinned. "I know."</p><p>He shook his head. "No they both lived."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"We must have missed a Horcrux."</p><p>She gulped. </p><p>He handed her a wrapped object. "Here, its a portkey, there's one for each safe house in case it's compromised it won't endanger anyone. Use it if you have to get out of a situation or if somebody else is." He disappeared into the smoke. </p><p>She shoved it into her pocket. </p><p>Like before she continued. She fought, she felt like she was winning a losing battle. Each time a death eater fell at her feet another emerged. She ran stepping over bodies, attempting to help who she could.</p><p>In the smoke, something caught her foot and she fell, hard. She thought maybe it's rubble from the explosion but she can't be sure. She pulled herself to stand but as she did she came face to face with a wand. She froze. Light shot near her and she squeezed her eyes shut only opening them when she hears a thump. Snape stood over the death eater. He offered his hand and she grabbed it standing up. It's then that she realized how injured her ankle is. Its probably just sprained but merlin it hurt. <br/>
</p><p>"You can't be here inured." Snape sneered at her but she can see through it. He had just saved her. </p><p>"Okay." Maybe she only agreed because Severus Snape just saved her, and for a third time her big brain can not process it. She stepped away from him. Looking around her. She wanted to help and fight but realistically she couldn't do much. With Harry gone, most of the order would soon follow when the opportunity presented itself. The war is very much not over, but the battle is. <br/>
She shoved her hand in her pocket and is gone. </p><p>Hermione is strong but she is alone. </p><p>***</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>She has now been edited. Sorry to anyone who read it pre-edit, I just wanted to post it lol. I'm so excited about this story so lmk what you think. I'm going to try and write as much as possible so I can get to the point where Draco and Hermione are together. It's just going to take forever. It's my fault but what can I do.<br/>Again I'm new to ao3 so I don't really know whats going on here. lol<br/>And thank you to everyone whos been so nice to me in the comments. I think I might like ao3 more than Wattpad.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Cabin Fever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco finished the safe houses Snape prepared for him. He is sure that he will be safe for now, but what comes after scares him. Acclimating to the muggle world is new and complicated.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>She is not edited well. So sorry, I like to write not edit :/ Hopefully there are not huge issues.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>***</p>
<p>
  <strong>1997</strong>
</p>
<p>He wakes before dawn. With the limited amount of possessions, he had left packed the night before there was nothing left for him to do. He took his time. He gathered his bag heavier with his new books and made his way around the cabin. Checking that he wouldn't be leaving anything out of place. Once he was sure everything looked just the way it had when he first arrived he relented. It was his time to leave. To silver whatever location Snape had dreamed up for him. </p>
<p>He stood in the living room looking around his satchel for the portkey. He grabbed the silver cloth and unwrapped it. This time cheap jewellery laid in his palm. He pulled away the fabric and clasped his hand shut. Immediately he felt the atmosphere around him change, he held his eyes shut only opening them when he felt it begin to settle. He landed square on his feet rather than his arse this time. </p>
<p>He groaned when he was greeted by yet another cabin. As much as he liked the former, a change of scenery would have been welcomed. However, this one was much more to his liking. He glanced around making sure this was the intended location. Upon confirming this was the only structure for miles, he stepped towards the entrance. </p>
<p>What an entrance it was. Large wooden double doors swung open revealing an equally large living room. It was all wooden, huge beans supporting the ceiling, a stone fireplace facing the living room already lit and roaring. The leather couches reminded him of the Slytherin common room. He cringed at the thought and the amount he now wished he could return to school. But like everything else in his life he had ruined it. </p>
<p>He didn't know where to explore first, to his right a hallway continued, a set of stairs to his left and more open space in front of him. So he went to the right discovering a large bedroom with a large closet and quite the view. The room was fluffy, the carpet, the drapes, the bedding. He would never choose to live in a place like this, in his mind this was the home of a Hufflepuff, a quite wealthy one but a Hufflepuff none the less. </p>
<p>He moved back to the entrance and began to explore the second floor. It contained a second smaller bedroom, no bathroom he noted and a loft with a view of the mountains. He moved back to the living room and ventured to the left. A long singing room table with carved legs and edges greeted him. A wonderful smell also greeted him. </p>
<p>In his haste he hadn't noticed the smell before, or the sound. He realized that he may not be alone, maybe somebody had broken into the home Snape had him using. Or maybe Snape sent him to the wrong location. He held his new wand firm in his hand and swung open the door. </p>
<p>A short elderly woman worked, string the contents of the pot on the stove. He stared at her wide-eyed. She turned and smiled. </p>
<p>"Hello dear, wasn't expecting you for a little while longer."</p>
<p>"Sorry." Expecting him?</p>
<p>"Making some stew if you want any. Planned on having it ready for ya."</p>
<p>"Sure.... thanks."</p>
<p>He continued to stand in the doorway, unsure what to do with himself. </p>
<p>"Hon?"</p>
<p>"Yes?"</p>
<p>"There's a note for you in the room you're staying in. He left it for you a week ago. Ts' in the desk."</p>
<p>"What room?"</p>
<p>"He didn't tell you did he? Tsk' never does. You're right down the hall."</p>
<p>He assumed she was talking about the fluffy room. He made his way back over to the room. </p>
<p>Placing his satchel on the chair he immediately began to search the desk for a note. He found it in the top drawer on the right. Like the others, it was rolled and sealed. Snape's seal stared back at him, slowly he peeled it off and opened the letter. </p>
<p>
  <em>Draco, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I hope you don't mind but you will have company for the night. I apologise in advance as she does enjoy to chat, ill let her introduce herself. Just know she cares after the home while I'm away for the year. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Before you leave she will give you a few tools I think you will find helpful. I should mention you're in Canada- Fernie. Another wonderful place to spend time away from society. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Please take any advice she gives you, she has a rather astute understanding of helping those who need to getaway. She will most likely tell you of others she has helped, and she will probably help some that you know in the near future. She will probably tell you of some of the permanent safe houses others have and will be sent to. Just know that is not where you are going. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I do hope this comes off well but with your recognizability and with the Dark Lord searching for you I cannot do the same and endanger others that have had to hide. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>While you won't be here long enjoy your time. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Stay safe, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>S.S.</em>
</p>
<p>He stared at the letter for several minutes reading it over. Snape had helped others, and planned on helping more. Were they like him? He wanted to know, meet them, others like him. But it seemed he wouldn't have that chance. </p>
<p>He made his way back to the dining room table finding the woman setting out two bowls across from each other. He sat at the closest and waited. She returned moments later with the pot placing it on a trivet. He sat with his hands in his laps eagerly waiting for her to serve him. Napkin also in his lap, his manners never died. </p>
<p>She spooned them each a full bowl and sat across from him. "I'm Nettie, suppose he didn't tell you that either. Never does." She scowled and began to spoon herself some stew. </p>
<p>"No, he didn't, I'm-"</p>
<p>"No don't." She interrupted him. "Forgets to tell you lot that as well. No names, no details from you. I don't mind sharing, but you can not."</p>
<p>"Oh," Strange.</p>
<p>"I help a few of you a year. Always the same. I tell him I do. He doesn't listen."</p>
<p>"You mean-"</p>
<p>"No none of that either, there are no names here."</p>
<p>"Why?"</p>
<p>"He doesn't tell you anything does he?"</p>
<p>"No, I guess not."</p>
<p>"A few of you have needed to leave, its become more frequent you know? Usually, I get one maybe two a year, this year five. Its been nice though. don't often get visitors. Ts' nice to have somebody to talk to."</p>
<p>"Yeah." He began to relax a bit. </p>
<p>"I tell him each time, he doesn't give enough information, but I think he knows I get lonely here and he lets me do the talking. He only comes for Christmas."</p>
<p>"I see."</p>
<p>"Hon?"</p>
<p>"Yes?"</p>
<p>"How long are you here for?"</p>
<p>"One night."</p>
<p>"Oh not long at all. When we're done eating I'll get your things," </p>
<p>"My things?"</p>
<p>"Oh yes. He left a bag for you. Doesn't do that for most, must like you."</p>
<p>He recalled the note and nodded. He began to eat. It was delicious, beef, noodles, vegetables, the broth. He grinned inwardly, he hadn't eaten anything like this since he had been at school. <br/>
She talked to him the entire time. He learned she had been married when she was young, she and her husband were both squibs and he died when he developed cancer and muggle hospitals nor magic could save him. Herbert, she called him. After that, she began to work for him- Snape. Keeping his home clean and ready for when he returned each holiday, but he always left Christmas day. Internally he where it was Snape went for the holiday, but like everything else, he kept that to himself. </p>
<p>After they finished the stew she left him at the table. He was used to people waiting on him, but he felt awkward sitting there with nothing to do. Nettie had put the stew and dishes away and disappeared into a different section of the cabin. So he sat and waited. </p>
<p>He had sat for at least twenty minutes, she had not returned. He was growing impatient. What was it she was retrieving, and why was it taking so long. He fiddled with the carvings on the chair he sat with absentmindedly tracing them. He mused that the chair, the table, and the cabin he was seated in was very much not Snape. He couldn't fathom why Snape had purchased it aside from the isolated location. Nice as it was- it was much too light. </p>
<p>- </p>
<p>When she finally returned she handed him a small black box. He did not recognise it. He fiddled with it for a moment before she took it from him. </p>
<p>"Hon allow me." She opened it effortlessly pulling the lid off and sliding it back over the table to him. Inside a long black rectangular device with numbers stared back at him. On the top, it read 'Nokia.'</p>
<p>"What is it?" It didn't look magical, but it most likely would be. Probably a rare artifact Snape was leaving to him to protect himself. It had numbers on it, maybe it had something to do with potions or alchemy. </p>
<p>"Its a phone?"</p>
<p>"A muggle phone?"</p>
<p>"Yes." </p>
<p>He stared at it confused. They discussed muggle technology at length in muggle studies. Phones he knew what these were. "How am I supposed to use it, they're stationary."</p>
<p>"Not this one dear."</p>
<p>"Oh."</p>
<p>He stared at it once more. He knew in theory what a phone did, it was muggle, a device used to communicate. How it functioned though, was beyond him. </p>
<p>"How- How does it work?"</p>
<p>She smiled at him. "There are instructions in the box you can use, but you dial a number and you see that button there?" She pointed at a round button near the centre. He nodded. "Then you press that and it will connect you. Just hold it to your ear and speak."</p>
<p>"Okay. Who do I dial?"</p>
<p>"You can call anyone."</p>
<p>"Okay."</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>He spent the rest of the day in the living room by the fire reading the books Snape had left for him. Muggle fashion bore him easily, then he moved on to reading about muggle technology. The book was outdated and didn't speak about muggle phones that were 'mobile' as the box read. Deciding the book was useless the last portion of the afternoon was spent rereading the 'Muggle Culture and Lifestyle.' Many of the things he read about were strange, lawn games and airplanes especially. Others though, reminded him of the wizarding world, it seemed restaurants and office jobs were quite similar in function and appearance. </p>
<p>The end of the night came quickly and a new wonderful smell began to drift towards him emitting from the kitchen. Just like the stew, the salmon fillet was divine. For nearly two weeks he had been feeding himself and it was nothing to be proud of. The salmon was like butter, rich melting in his mouth. He gingerly ate his meal savouring it. As it came to an end so did their conversation which included learning more about Nettie, her life, her late husband and the small details about those she helped. </p>
<p>While he couldn't share much about himself, she could share every detail of her life. It just became less and less detailed the more she spoke about the others who had come to stay with her. Whether that was because she wasn't able to learn enough about them, or was unable to share, he didn't know. </p>
<p>When he went to excuse himself she stopped him. "I have to go into the town in the mornin' some shopping to do. He said you're levn' in the mornin', so I won't be seen you again. Was nice meeting you, I enjoy having company here."</p>
<p>She pulled him into a tight hug. It startled him for a moment, he wasn't one to hug. But after a moment he gave in and hugged her back, it was clumsy and awkward, but after a moment she released him clasping hid hand in hers.</p>
<p>"You be careful hon, you'll be on your own."</p>
<p>He nodded, unsure of how to respond. She looked at him a moment longer before wishing him a good night. </p>
<p>He made his way back to what he had deemed the fluffy room. He immediately set to packing his things readying himself for the morning. With his things packed he showered and readied himself for bed. </p>
<p>Maybe after his shower, he stood on the fluffy carpet dragging his feet against the material, and maybe he lay in the soft bedding and enjoyed how it felt against his skin. And just maybe he fell asleep quickly in the much too soft bed. </p>
<p>- </p>
<p>The early morning sun greeted his eyelids dancing across his face. He sat and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. One thought plagued his mind, well maybe two. One- he was not the first one Snape had subjected to being sent from house to house however he wasn't going to the same place. Two- Gold. The two thought whirled around in his mind repeating over and over. He wanted to make sense of it all but he couldn't. His entire life had been rearranged and scrambled within less than a month. Just like a day earlier, he finally knew where he was, as for where he was going. He didn't have a clue. He pulled himself out of the fluffy bed and dressed. </p>
<p>Finally when he was ready just like before he pulled the bundle out of his bag. It was simmering gold, silk, smooth. He pulled the string and the fabric fell away revealing a broach, gold like the cloth with pearls and crystals encrusted. Shimmying the fabric from his hand he closed his fingers and his eyes a moment later anticipating the portkeys transportation. </p>
<p>- </p>
<p>Everything calmed and his eyes fluttered open. It was bight and cold. He held his eyes shut a moment longer, still able to sense the light. The white snow surrounding him burned to look at so instead he scanned the tree line. Finally, his eyes landed on a lone structure. It was small composed of dark wood, the edges of the roof upturned. The style of the building he did not recognise. He had hoped for something other than another cabin, he was not lucky. </p>
<p>Again like the others, he did not see another building nearby. He moved quickly both wanting to be out of the cold and to shield his eyes which were becoming sore from the light. The cabin was warm, an ornate red rug and ivory carvings greeted him. A large beam held up the centre of the first floor a single room. On the west, a living room, to the east a kitchen, to the south a bathroom with a large tub, only separated with an accordion wooden screen, and in the centre a circular table with chairs. He climbed the ladder to the second floor, it only contained a bed, red and gold with surrounding curtains. It was very Gryffindor, the red much deeper, the wood darker but combined with the gold he did not like it. </p>
<p>He left his bag on the bed and moved back to the first floor. His curiosity got the best of him and he found himself sitting at the table staring at the rectangular wooden box in the centre. Pulling it closer he inspected the carvings, dragons danced along each side. He pulled the gold latch and peered inside. </p>
<p>A scroll was all. Assuming it was for him and recognising Snape's seal, he opened it. </p>
<p>
  <em>Draco, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>This cabin is not mine, instead a dear friend's. I trust you will keep it tidy. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>You are closer to home, still quite a far distance but no longer across an ocean. Please enjoy your stay in China. The mountains are a wonderful place to stay hidden. If you do need to use magic, this location will allow it, however, keep it to a small amount. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I don't have much to share with you this time. There is a town nearby that you may explore if you feel so inclined. However, if you do so, your appearance is quite, unique. While the world believes you to be dead, the closest followers to the Dark Lord are not so convinced. I doubt there will be any in the town, still, the only way you may go is by changing your appearance. In the bathroom, you will find muggle hair dye. In the wardrobe across from the bed, appropriate attire. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>If you go into town without doing so and are caught, it will not be on my conscience. This will be your own doing. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Stay safe, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>S.S.</em>
</p>
<p>At the bottom of the letter, an enchanted map appeared with directions to the town lined in red ink. </p>
<p>Inwardly he was apprehensive, but interacting with civilization. That sentiment excited him. He was desperate to see people. </p>
<p>The rest of the day consisted of figuring out how to feed himself, reading by the fire and maybe wishing he had a tv. The cabin had detailed books on nearly every topic he studied at Hogwarts. Most were not in English but enough were for him to entertain himself. </p>
<p>The kitchen had the same appliances as the yellow cabin minus the microwave. He didn't mind. He understood how to use the stove, in theory, he could get by. However, he struggled quite a bit. In the freezer he found dumplings, he put them in the water once it was boiling and left them for five minutes. To say his dinner was inedible would be an understatement. He ate it still not wanting to have to attempt again. They were soggy on the outside and somehow still cold in the centre. </p>
<p>He ended his day with his dinner thoroughly disappointed and missing the caliber of food he had consumed the day prior. The bed like the dinner was also not quite as welcoming as the night before.</p>
<p>-<br/>
 <br/>
By lunch the next day he had yet to decide if he were to disguise himself. He desperately wanted to go into the town but using muggle hair dye. That- he was unsure of.  He knew looking like himself wouldn't work even if nobody recognised him, he would stand out. The muggle hair dye was foreign. He didn't know how to use it, or it even worked on those who ere magical the same. Snape seemed to believe so, but there was no way he had used it himself. Maybe he knew of others who had, but he left little information. </p>
<p>So he found himself in the bathroom reading the box for the tenth time. It reminded him of potions, making the mixture, precisely laying it on his hair in sections and timing how long he left it. He began, it was nice to have something to do. When he had it ready he began methodically placing it in sections from the back to the top and then finally the front. He left it for exactly fifteen minutes before taking it off in the shower. Stepping out he looked down in the mirror. His hair was nearly black, the dye had said brown, but it seemed that it had taken to his hair too well. He should have taken it off sooner. He looked ridiculous. Brown dye was all over his face and neck, he had been careful enough to not get it on the rest of his body but it had stained patches of his skin in the shower. He used his wand to scourgify his skin careful in avoiding his hair. </p>
<p>He hoped it would dry lighter. He made himself dinner and selected a new book from the stacks. This one was an in-depth look at the history of potioneers, he enjoyed it so much he read late into the night. He wished he could take it with him. He read until he fell asleep in the Gryffindor esque red love-seat. </p>
<p>- </p>
<p>His back was in knots from sleeping upright. He stood stretching his neck and arms. He contemplated making himself food, but with the effort, he had gone to the day before in changing his appearance, going into town for a warm well-cooked meal won out. He went upstairs to inspect the outfit that had been left for him for the first time. A long black coat, grey slacks, snow boots and a winter cap. That was all. Clearly, the outfit in question was muggle however the coat was not unlike robes long and thick. Pulling the outfit on he looked over himself in the mirror. His skin was still pale, eyes still grey, but his hair was dark brown. Nearly black, he looked like he could be a Potter, the thought made him feel sick. But maybe his stomach was in knots from hunger or nervous anticipation </p>
<p>He ripped the portion of the scroll with the map and put it in his pocket. He had the route memorized for the most part but he didn't want to lose his way. As his hand slid into his pocket he felt something cold near the bottom. He slid his fingers around it and inspected them. They looked like coins, although he didn't recognise the design. He hadn't even thought about how he would pay for his meal. As the coat was meant for him, he decided he would assume the coins were as well. </p>
<p>He stepped outside and began his walk to the town. He kept to the side of the path, planning to avoid as many as he could, but he didn't come across anyone. The path wove in and out of the trees along the side of the mountain and it took him a good half an hour assessing the map twice before he came to the town. </p>
<p>It was smaller than he imagined. Ten buildings in total lined the street. Each in a similar style as the cabin he stayed in. Two of the shops had clothing lining the windows, he did not recognise most of them, but his nose did. He couldn't read the signs so instead, his nose led him to the end of the street. He stepped inside and a warm gust of air pushed against him. A shorter woman greeted him in a language he did not understand. He just nodded and followed her to a table. The restaurant was tiny, decorated in a similar manner to the cabin but plants lined the walls. </p>
<p>She left him seated with a menu. He could not read the menu, he was now realizing he was in a muggle restaurant where he did not speak the language. He was beginning to regret the choice he had made. He was the only patron in the tiny restaurant and the woman returned moments later. </p>
<p>When she realized he spoke English she waved he hands at him. "No worries, I'll get you the best. Are you staying up the road with the doctor?"</p>
<p>He could only assume that he was staying in the doctor's cabin. He nodded. </p>
<p>"Come to ski with him?" He had read about skiing, some type of muggle activity, though he couldn't recall exactly what.</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"Good, snow will come soon." She took his menu and left.<br/>
 <br/>
He didn't expect English, maybe it was his intrinsic bias or maybe it was just a result of how isolated the town was. While she didn't speak much it was enough to put him at ease. With his trepidation gone, anticipation for the meal only increased. </p>
<p>By now he had come to realize that cooking without magic took extra time, so he settled in. The woman returned not five minutes later serving him soup. The soup smelled wonderful, he did not know what it was but it tasted as good as it smelled. It was slightly sour with mushrooms and fish. He finished it with such haste he didn't even realise it was gone until he was looking down at an empty bowl. </p>
<p>In no time she returned with what he assumed was his main course. Beef tenderloin covered with red bell pepper, green onion, bok choy and minced garlic. He took a bite the sauce had a hint of ginger, he groaned. Immediately he regretted that he would be leaving. He had never tasted anything like it, not even his house-elves had made such a dish. </p>
<p>When he was done she returned, it was like clockwork. She presented him with a bowl filled with multiple items. She left once again and he held it to his nose smelling it. It was smelled sweet and it was cold in his hands, but it contained what looked like beans and chopped fish. He was quite apprehensive, but the woman timing led him to believe that she would be watching him. <br/>
His pureblood manners kicked in and he ate a spoonful. It was sweet, the flavour was new to him, but he liked it. He ate the entire thing, only pausing a few times after it became too cold. He discovered that the cubes were sweet and chewy while the beans were nutty in flavour. </p>
<p>Once he was done the woman returned. He attempted to pay her but she insisted that she didn't need to be paid. Still, he left half of the coins behind, unsure if it would cover his meal or not but still not sure if the money was meant for him in the first place. </p>
<p>The walk back was quicker and he made it back just as the sun was setting. Content and with a full stomach he climbed the ladder and went to bed. </p>
<p>- </p>
<p>He had slept in past lunch, something he had not done previously. He prided himself in not being lazy, always waking with the sun while he attended school, but the stress he had experienced in the past year and especially the past month was catching up to him. For the first time in a while, he had found himself well-rested and his hands steady. </p>
<p>When he had been home for Christmas break he had been punished at the hands of the Dark Lord for not finishing his task earlier. He still had reminders of the cruciatus curse, especially in the mornings. His second semester at Hogwarts saw his handwriting become shaky and crooked. Potions didn't often help and sleep wasn't something he came by often. He held his hands in from of his face they didn't move. He nearly smiled. </p>
<p>He was greedy for the remainder of the day. Stealing as much knowledge from the books as he could. Many of the books were rare titles he hadn't seen at Hogwarts or the Malfoy library. Chinese magic was a topic he had read on but never in-depth or from a primary source. He found a potions textbook that included many of the same potions, but different methods, many he would have never considered. </p>
<p>He used spare parchment in one of the desks and took notes on anything and everything that piqued his interest. He stayed like that for the entire afternoon. By the end of the evening, he had nine sheets of parchment filled out. He rolled them together and secured them in his bag. He knew realistically he had no use for them, but he enjoyed it none the less. Who knew eventually they could come in handy, many of the recipes were much simpler to brew, needed fewer ingredients or more effective. Yes many of them were far too complicated however those he copied just out of pure interest. </p>
<p>Finally, the day came to a close and he took himself to bed. Sleep did not come as easily as the night prior, anticipation kept him awake late into the night. </p>
<p>- </p>
<p>He did not want to go to a new location. It would be the last. Snape had made no mention of helping him more. Snape had actually told him he would be on his own already, it was just happening so fast. His bags were already packed the night before and there was nothing for him to do. Snape had made it clear he was to keep the home clean so it had been tidy the entire time. For the last time, he reached into his satchel and pulled out a small object covered in magenta silk. He pulled the string and it fell open revealing a silver pen with intricate engravings. He grasped the silk and pulled it away closing his hand around the pen and felt himself being pulled away. </p>
<p>He opened his eyes. He was in the mountains, again. He was standing in front of a cabin, again. He was expecting it but hoping that maybe his last night would be spent somewhere more exciting. The cabin was made of cobblestone and reminded him of a tea house in the far corner of the Malfoy property. </p>
<p>The mountains around him were expansive and green, however, they were mostly covered in shrubbery rather than trees. In the distance, he could see crystal blue water between the closest mountains. </p>
<p>He walked towards the cabin and pushed the wooden door open. It was musty, everything covered in dust and sheets draped across the furniture. The first room included what looked like a couch, chairs and a table. On top sat a scroll and small box. Instead of exploring as he often had, he went straight to the items. </p>
<p>
  <em>Draco, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I apologise for the state of the place, I did not have time to prepare it for you. If you move a sheet there is no need to move it back. Currently, you are in the Kurdish mountains, if you had been there longer you may have had the opportunity to see the caves and lakes. You will only be here for one night, there should be books in the study. I have left food for you on the counter in the paper bag. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>This is the last letter that I will be giving to you. Please keep the following in mind</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>-It is in your best interest to stay isolated. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>-Staying in the muggle world for the majority of your time will keep you safe. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>-Altering your appearance will be needed when in largely populated muggle areas and anywhere in the wizarding world. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>-Only enter the wizarding world once a week to collect the papers. It will benefit you to understand what is happening politically, to see if there is room for you to return. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>- If I need to contact you or it is safe for you to return- I will leave a note in the classified section. You will know it's from me so pay close attention. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>-The phone I left you can be an important tool. While you won't be able to contact me with it, if you find allies who help you it will be useful to contact them. It is an important tool to navigate the modern wizarding black market. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Within the box, I have left is a portkey to a small town in Iceland, use it tomorrow. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Stay safe, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>S.S.</em>
</p>
<p>He walked to the next room, the kitchen and found the paper bag with food. He went back to the living room and went to the next room, finding the bedroom he set his satchel on the bed. The walls were stone, the bed was simple and the only other furniture was a nightstand. Clearly, the cabin was not often used. The last room was the study, each wall was lined with books and an old desk sat in the middle with a leather wingback chair he uncovered. </p>
<p>He spent the entire day reading with nothing else to do. Most of the books were titles he had seen before. He found comfort in the books he read as a child. He considered taking The Tales of Beedle the Bard with him but eventually decided against it. </p>
<p>His appetite was small so he finally made his way to the kitchen in time for dinner. He found rice and cans of hummus and tomato paste. He did not recognise the words as they were in a foreign language but he managed. The rice was edible and the canned items tasted better than he had expected. He went to the bedroom taking The Tales of Beedle the Bard with him and reading it for the last time. He dreaded waking up and what would follow. </p>
<p>Draco doesn't know where he is going, but he will endure. </p>
<p>***</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Like usual let me know what you think. It may be 1-2 weeks before I update again, I have 2 exams coming up and an article to finish writing. If this chapter seems off, sorry I wrote it while I was drunk. Pay no mind. I feel like were getting closer, but I looked at my outline and ugh. Why am I doing this to myself and all of you. Were so fucking far. Sorry still a but tipsy. This chapter is a lot of word vomit. Drunk me likes to write ig. Hahahahhah. I just like wine.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Between Silence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hermione is alone, she wants to find her friends but it becomes increasingly difficult.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Yooooo this shit is not edited. I refuse. I just want to write and be done GOD.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>***</p><p>
  <strong>May 3, 1998</strong>
</p><p>Her entire body shook. The portkey had taken her to a safe house she had not seen before. She stood in front of it unmoving, staring. The adrenaline began to wear off, a steep decline. It felt like she was going through withdrawals, a high to a low. A complete contrast, the unending action to an immediate stillness. The wind whipped through her curls and the grass rippled all around her. </p><p>She continued to stand. The wind picked up and she swayed, her knees buckled and she fell to the ground. She looked down at herself her jeans were ripped and burned, stained with blood. She brought her hand to her mouth holding back a sob. At once it had all hit her. Everything she had gone through came back at once. Her hands trembled and she held her eyes shut, like a movie reel she saw it all happen. She pushed the heel of her hands into her eyes willing it all to stop. </p><p>What had she done, <em>what had she done?</em> She had killed for what felt like nothing. Somehow the universe had tricked them, they had strode into Hogwarts with such confidence believing they could defeat him. They had missed at least one, how- she didn't know. It made no sense, Harry had something that connected him to Voldemort, he could sense Horcruxes, he could feel their energy. He saw much of Voldemort did and said, and was sure that they had gotten the last of them. </p><p>She sat in front of the safe house trembling with her eyes still shut. It was still morning but the sky was cloudy and everything around her was dim. It's like the world knew what the day meant, the sun was barely recognisable through all the grey. She stayed sitting, the deactivated portkey laying to her right. </p><p>She remained. When it began to rain, she still hadn't collected herself. The rain was welcomed, washing away the reminders of the day. The rain persisted, growing stronger. Only when it became too cold to handle did she move. She stood moving towards the door. She stepped inside trailing water the entire way. Her eyes landed on the couch, she made her way over and laid down. In an instant, everything caught up with her and she was asleep. </p><p>-</p><p>She awoke hours later still damp from the rain. Disoriented she attempted to discern what had woken her. A muted pecking continued, she sat up and looked to her right. A shabby owl who had most certainly had better days sat outside the window. The window had been painted shut and took a considerable amount of strength to pry open. The owl crawled in and flapped over to the table staring at her. </p><p>She approached it taking the small scroll it grasped. It still stared at her, she moved to the kitchen unable to find treats, she offered it crackers, the owl took them and began its feast. <br/>
The wax seal was one she immediately recognised, it was Moody's. Relief rippled through her entire body.</p><p>
  <em>Hermione, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I assume as you have not joined us that you have used the portkey. Most at the battle were able to escape and have reconvened at the main base. I'm assuming you will want to know- Harry, Ron, Ginny are fine. There are about ten of you that I presume escaped by portkey to other safe houses. I will be awaiting your response in confirming your safety. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Unfortunately during the battle one of the sub-bases was broken into. We managed to defeat most of the death eaters who broke in but some escaped. We don't know what documents they were able to grab due to the fire that resulted, but some included maps of smaller safe house locations. Chances are they didn't acquire any, but just in case be on the lookout. Every safe-house has a means of exit. The one you are stationed in has one as well. The portrait at the end of the hall conceals the exit. At the end of the passage, there is a loose stone, seven up and three to the right, a portkey is hidden inside. I would refrain from doing so unless absolutely necessary it will make it harder for us to reunite. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>With compromised documents, we are planning on moving the base to a location that is harder to identify and reach. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>We will send somebody to collect you in the next three days. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Until then, look after yourself, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Moody</em>
</p><p>His blunt nature was not lost in writing. She quickly penned a responce. Assuring Moody she was safe, she thanked him for telling her about her friends and agreed that moving the base was a smart decision. </p><p>The owl took the letter and left through the same window. Immediately she burnt the letter realizing what could happen if it came to the wrong hands, was read by the wrong eyes. Already she began counting down until she would be reunited with her friends again. Still sopping wet she went to investigate the rest of the home, especially the portrait. She found she was already standing in a shared kitchen and living room, moving to the hall she found the portrait quickly. It was muggle and did not move, a depiction of El Greco's View of Toledo. She stood there for several moments admiring the art, while it was just a replica the detail and colours were astounding. </p><p>She inspected the far left edge confirming Moody's instructions when she found the hinges. She looked at the other four rooms, a bathroom and three bedrooms. She immediately took a shower, soothing her aching limbs. When she finished she moved to the closest bedroom forgoing her still wet clothing. Her magical core was exhausted and sleep came easily. </p><p>- </p><p>The next day came and went. There was simply nothing to do. No books, little to eat other than pasta in well, pasta water. Outside the home, there were no roads, not that she would have used them anyway. She would have been too worried that upon taking a walk she would have missed anyone coming to bring her to the safe house. Late into the evening, a much healthier looking owl arrived at her window. She sprang into action unrolling the scroll it held onto. </p><p>
  <em>Hermione, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>We are all glad to hear from you. We will be moving the base sooner than we thought, one of the bases closest to us was visited last night. Luckily we avoided any casualties and the two who were staying there escaped undetected. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I do grow worried for you, however. It will take us longer to come for you, as we are evacuating the base as I write and the majority of the order is here. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>If you come to find yourself in a similar situation it will be increasingly harder to communicate if the portkey is used.If that happens, revert to the plans we discussed during training. The newspapers will serve as a useful tool for communication. Use ancient ruins to go undetected, we will do the same.  Upon using it go west follow the stars and go towards the light. I'm afraid that's all I can add, I'm becoming worried some of my letters are being intercepted. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope we will retrieve you before it comes to that. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>When we have set up a new base, we will travel to you or more likely send a portkey. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Until then, look after yourself,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Moody</em>
</p><p>Her second response was much shorter. </p><p>
  <em>Moody, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I remember the plan and will keep it in mind. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please take care of the boys for me. I will see you soon. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hermione</em>
</p><p>She sent the letter off with the owl, a shiver moving down her spine. She did not like thinking about what-ifs especially those that ended poorly. A sense of dread filled her, she was utterly alone, with nothing of her own, nobody and nothing to do. She wished for some company, ever the introvert but being alone was becoming excessive. </p><p>She began to recite Hogwarts, A History from memory. By the end of the day she had finished, she knew the book from start to finish and even described the images in the text. She didn't know who she was reciting for, she knew the book, every piece of information, it was nothing new. Maybe she was doing so just for noise, something to listen to, or just a task to complete. For dinner like every other meal, she had pasta with salt. Her stomach rumbled but she was full. She was growing frustrated with the repetitive flavour, after she left she would do everything she could to avoid pasta. </p><p>Sleep was a good way to waste time however it never lasted long. The home creaked and groaned all night and she did not sleep well. Considering the position she was in, it wasn't necessarily a bad thing. If anyone came no matter who or for what purpose, she needed to be alert. More than anything she wanted to leave. As the days continued to pass she began to make conversation with herself, increasingly aware of her deteriorating mental state.</p><p>Rationally she knew that sitting for her N.E.W.T.s would likely not happen, or at least not for years but she reviewed. Finding scrolls, quills, and a single ink-pot she covered many of her classes. Consciously she focused on classes that would serve her in real-life situations, astronomy, potions, DADA, and ancient runes. But three days later she had nothing left to write with and began to speak to herself again. She read over her notes but became bored after the tenth day passed and like Hogwarts, A History, her notes too were memorized. </p><p>On the twelfth day, she burnt her notes. They were in her brain, she had no way of transporting them and didn't want to leave them behind. </p><p>On the fifteenth day, she began to worry. Maybe The Order failed to move the base. Maybe they forgot about her. She didn't know what to do with herself. She paced around the kitchen island and when she went to bed her left leg was sore. She realized it was from walking in the same direction. She concluded that the next day she would need to move in the opposite. </p><p>On the seventeenth day, she received a letter. She leapt from the couch flinging the window open and taking the scroll. Rather than waiting the owl left not even pausing to have a cracker she did not blame him. <br/>
She sat on the couch and read the letter. </p><p>
  <em>Hermione,</em><br/>
  <br/>
It has taken us quite some time but the base has been moved elsewhere. That is all I can say about the location. We ran tests with my mail sending dummy letters and my suspicions were confirmed. Some letters were being intercepted. 
</p><p>
  <em>Unfortunately moving the base did not go as planned, while we are all safe now, some were lost. I'm afraid I cannot divulge more but your boys are safe. We hope to see you soon.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Until then, look after yourself,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Moody</em>
</p><p>The letter made her nervous, but there was nothing she could do. She paced thinking, she began to think aloud. </p><p>"They've moved, that's good. But something happened and gave them trouble, the mail is being intercepted. Maybe a mole? Or death eaters have enough control to stop and read mail? He didn't want a response so I assume the second to be true. None of this is good. If it took them that long to set up and find time to owl me, then how much longer will I be here?</p><p>- </p><p>The night came quickly but sleep evaded her. She sat on the couch staring at the spot on the wall where a TV could have occupied. Eventually, she became restless. </p><p>She made it outside and sat on the porch. The stars were bright providing the only source of light. Cassiopeia sat directly above her adjacent to Polaris, she followed the stars along the sky making her own patterns and constellations. A small rustle came from the left, she remained still, afraid that someone had found her. </p><p>Bright orbs stared at her through the darkness. She gulped afraid of who was looking at her, the orbs blinked at her intermittently from the bottom of the tree line. Slowly they moved nearer and as they did they lowered to the ground, she sighed, relieved. The raccoon neared perching on a rock two meters from her. </p><p>"You scared me, it's not nice."</p><p>It just looked at her. She looked around herself making sure nobody would see her talking to a raccoon. Of course, she was alone. </p><p>"I've been here for days with only myself, you know I wished for someone to talk to and I get you. I don't mean offense but you're not exactly going to respond to me are you?"</p><p>She rolled her eyes. </p><p>"This is not right, you're a raccoon and I'm talking to you. I must really be losing it."</p><p>In the end, she decided he was a decent conversationalist. He didn't interrupt her once. </p><p>-</p><p>It happened in the night on the twenty-first day. She sat up in bed immediately awake. Instinctively she had slept in the room closest to the portrait. Voices were traveling from the living room, and she did not recognise them. She crept towards the door she held her ear to it and listened. They were muted but she recognised that they were not friendly, Greyback's voice rumbled through the home. The dark lord was muttered and alarm bells rang in her head. She pulled the door open slowly hyper-aware of the squeaking it had often made. </p><p>She peeked outside, the coast was clear and she crept out. She moved to the portrait and pulled it open slipping inside. She ran towards the back, it was longer than she had anticipated. She cast a Lumos and couldn't see the end, she began to run. If they hadn't seen her they had heard the portrait slam shut. Granted they would have assumed it was a door but upon finding each room empty they would have used other methods to discover her. She held her shoes in one hand her wand in the other, there hadn't been enough time to dress, but with nothing else, she was still in her clothing that had been transfigured into pyjamas. </p><p>The tunnel was damp and she had to keep an eye out for puddles, her feet were turning raw. She became increasingly concerned that she would be found before reaching the end. Even with minimal light, she could not see anything in front of her. She ran faster. </p><p>Finally, she reached the end, she held her light to the wall and counted. Seven from the bottom and three from the right. She grasped the stone and pulled it, it wiggled but did not move. She put her shoes down and used her wand to pry the stone out of its place, she had no other choice. The stone came loose, in the dim light she inspected her wand, it was fine. She peered into the hole, it was deep. She stuck her hand in and felt nothing, she pushed her arm in all the way and found the end, her hand moved around and in the far right corner, she found an item. </p><p>She pulled it out, it was small and round wrapped in a white cloth, most likely a kitchen wash towel she shoved it in her pocket. She looked to the end of the tunnel, they hadn't found her yet. She couldn't think, she had to do something, even if she communicated through other methods maybe they would miss it. She began to think her brain beginning to unfreeze, she sliced the palm of her hand with a rock on the ground. She dipped her finger in and began to write on the wall, 'I'm ok, I made it on time.' She glanced at it, it was legible enough. </p><p>She still had time, she began to put her shoes on. Before she could finish the first she heard a noise, a small amount of light emitted from the opposite side of the tunnel. She held her breath, maybe it was The Order and they had finally come for her, maybe they caught the death eaters, but she couldn't risk it. She listened intently, they did not speak, the sound of feet barreling down the tunnel echoed. </p><p>Surely the order would have made themselves known. She waited knowing they were still far enough away. A curse flew and nearly missed her. She scrambled grasping her wand and shoe in one hand and unravelled the portkey, she didn't even look at it. She held onto it, it crumpled in her hand and she was whisked away. </p><p>Hermione doesn't know where she is going, but she will persevere.  </p><p>***</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Bad decisions have been made. I wrote this rather than studying for an exam... and I still have to write my fucking article. PRAY FOR ME. I just really wanted to write this and couldn't stop thinking about it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Antiparallel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hermione and Draco each take on their new life separated from everything they once knew.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>HIYA, sorry this is a bit short and also unedited. I wrote this in like two hours and I just wanted to update so thats what this is. Also just wanted to make sure people know this is dramione and it will have smut however that may not come for a few more chapters.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>***</p><p>
  <strong>August 6, 1997</strong>
</p><p>The portkey was black, wrapped in silk, like the others. He knew he had to go, but it was an unknown. Something he did not like in life was not knowing. How was he meant to leave, go somewhere he did not know, without anyone.</p><p>He was utterly alone in the world. Snape had been there but only in writing. In his sleep, he had dreamt of a better time, before Hogwarts, before the Dark Lord, surrounded by friends and family. As a child, he would run through the manor grounds, fly on his broom, and feed sugar cubes to the abraxans.Life was simple and it was the closest to happy he had ever been. In the morning when he awoke, he had never experienced such disappointment. It had been years since he had a dream that did not involve his failures, the Dark Lord or worrying about his mother.</p><p>As the morning progressed the dream moved further away and his worries came barreling back.</p><p>He trembled and opened the silk curling his fingers around the port key, sea glass.</p><p>-</p><p>Had the world always been this bright? He did not think so. In the same way, his name had often brought him good fortune, his new look did the same. He was in a yet to be identified Scandinavian country, and he had somehow been mistaken for a Beraux? Baneroux? He honestly wasn't sure, but his ability to speak French, pale skin and brown hair- which was beginning to lighten and grow out- were going to take him places.</p><p>Everywhere he turned warm smiles greeted him. It seemed whichever family it was he came from may not have been monetarily wealth but their reputation bought them enough. Free food and a free room at the were more than he would have asked for.</p><p>It had been a week and he had genuinely smiled at least once.</p><p>The town was small and he rather enjoyed it. Truly if it had been up to him he would have had Snape fetch him some money from his vaults, something to tide him over. But his father, even with the vast amount of money they had, would have eventually noticed. So no, he had no means of obtaining money. </p><p>While the small town was largely muggle, the man who had taken him in- Ivan was one of the few wizards. Ivan could be described as nothing other than ancient, he wagered the man had to be approaching two-hundred. His back was hunched and he used a cane that splintered, his hair sparse, his clothing well it may have been as old as him. </p><p>Ivan had found him in the small shop searching for the Daily Prophet. He hadn't said that's what he was looking for, but somehow Ivan knew. It was most likely the fact that he stood in front of the newspaper stand for about half an hour sorting through each and every one, long enough for the shop keeper to question him. </p><p>When Ivan approached him he had simply looked him up and down and asked him to come with him. That was how he had been able to make it there. Ivan luckily did not recognise him, instead, he thought he was from the only other wizarding family in the area- hence the alias. </p><p>So with a place to stay and the small sum of muggle cash Ivan gave him, he made do. And for the week he had been there Ivan had supplied him each day with the Daily Prophet. The first of which was difficult to read. </p><p>On the ninth page, he found himself. He stared at his image, a two by four portrait, barley moving, just blinking and not smiling. </p><p>
  <strong>31st of July 1997</strong>
</p><p><strong>Malfoy, Lucius Draco.</strong> <em>Age 17, passed away 30th of June 1997. He was the son of Lucious and Narcissa Malfoy born June 5th, 1980. </em></p><p>
  <em>He was sorted into the Slytherin house upon attending Hogwarts and was a seeker for the Quidditch team. Draco excelled at his studies and was among the top of his class especially enjoying potions. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He passed in the astronomy tower after a duel. His body never recovered. He was the only heir to the Malfoy fortune. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It is with care from his family that this is posted. And thanks are given to all who attended the funeral service and offered condolences.</em>
</p><p>He had "died" over a month ago and his mother was still running the obituary, his heart broke. Though it was quite short he ignored that fact. Whatever it was that Snape had done- it had worked. The wizarding world was convinced of his death. He looked at the picture, it still looked like him. Even with his hair changed, he looked the same. He needed to decide if he would change his appearance more. He couldn't continue looking like himself, he couldn't risk people seeing him as a walking ghost would do no good. He was barely of age, the wand Snape had left for him- it was unregistered, it may not alert that he was the one using it. He wouldn't be able to apparate or travel by floo, the ministry would notice the discrepancy and learn that he lived. No, he couldn't. There was a chance Snape gave him the wand with the intentions of him using it until he was able to return to the wizarding world. He hoped. Maybe he would give it a chance because for now, he was a ghost of himself with slightly darker hair. </p><p>Draco is dead, but he will learn how to live. </p><p>-</p><p>
  <strong>May 21, 1998</strong>
</p><p>Had she always been moving this fast? Decidedly not. She had followed the stars making it to the small village. Small, no tiny. That had been two weeks ago. Everything had changed.<br/>
The world wasn't what it once was. Nothing was the same. At night she was kept awake wondering what had come of her parents, had The Order been able to protect them? During the day she wondered about her friends, where were they?</p><p>She hadn't had time to even try and communicate. She hoped when they didn't hear from her, or went to collect her they saw her message but she did not hold out hope. It was unlikely.</p><p>She had taken refuge in a small inn. It was a town of less than one hundred, she gathered they were safe for now. It was clear the town supported The Order, but they didn't have long. The world had begun to fall into her worst nightmare. The paper was a week late to the town.</p><p>A week ago the headline read- <em>The Dark Lord Remains Triumphant<em></em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The week before- <em>Harry Potter Badly Injured, How Will the Order Survive?</em></em></em></p><p>
  <em><br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She didn't even have to guess, somebody at the Daily Prophet had been bought out, or had suppressed pureblood elitist beliefs that were finally okay to express.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The fire was warm on her aching feet, after she had taken the portkey, she had easily walked over twenty miles in her already failing shoes, her feet had yet to recover. Blistered, bloody and a limping mess was the state she had arrived in the village. Egil, the innkeeper had been kind enough to take her in. She was lucky to not be recognized. If they were found to be harboring her- they would not survive it. Egil had provided her with food and a room, and she knew she couldn't stay for much longer.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>But she needed a plan. Tomorrow he said the new post would arrive. Then she would get a better grasp on what the world had become, then she would plan.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Until then- well she had to do something to protect herself. Her bushy honey coloured hair much too recognizable.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She stood, hands shaking in front of the mirror. She could do it with magic, but it felt wrong. She would simply straighten edges with magic, but only if necessary.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>So she began by thinning her thick hair. Soon it was at least an eighth lighter. She stared at herself unsure of what would serve her best, the shorter the more unrecognizable she would be, but she had to be able to tie it up.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>With lingering doubt, she parted her hair over her shoulders and cut it right over her collar bone. Immediately it puffed near the bottom billowing out, she looked ridiculous, pastry-like. She laughed at herself. She surrendered and used magic to straighten her hair, she had been mastering the charm while hunting Horcruxes. It was much easier she learned to run with a sleek pony then curls pulled back that often broke free or snapped her hair elastics.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>As her hair straightened it was much more to her liking. Still, she saw herself and it was, her. It wasn't enough. She sat with herself for a moment racking her brain for any long-lasting transfiguration charms she could apply to change the shade of her hair. Finally, she set on combining one she had used to change a blue dress into plaid trousers permanently and another used to change a white rabbit brown along with felintas.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>To her delight, it worked and instantly her hair darkened a few shades. No longer a honey colour it was closer to a chestnut colour. It didn't exactly suit her, but it didn't look bad either. She ran a comb through her hair and gave herself a once over. Still, she was slightly recognizable, but she was sure in the morning she could come up with something to do. Maybe even the paper would save her from doing so. Maybe Harry was recovered and ready to face Voldemort again. Maybe. Until then, nightmares about her family awaited her. She went to bed.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>-</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>When she awoke immediately she went to wash her face. Upon seeing her reflection she almost screamed. She looked like a different version of herself. She almost looked like her mother. She would have to consider if she needed to do more later. She dressed and went to see Egil. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He was seated in his office eating toast. She approached him. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>"Oh, dear girl you surprised me, what have you done to your hair?"</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She blinked at him realizing she didn't plan on what she was going to say. "Oh, I just thought it might be time for a change."</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He squinted at her. "Alright then, you will be wanting to read this I'm guessing."</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>He handed her the Daily Prophet from earlier in the week. "Thank you, sir." She took it from him and headed back to her room. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em><strong>The New Minister of Magic Takes Office</strong> <br/>
Rita Skeeter<br/>
May 18, 1998</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>Just this morning the new Minister of Magic took office. Minister Corban Yaxley has yet to reveal his policy plans while in office. We anxiously await the release of these plans. Just today a new muggle-born registration had been set up, the first action taken by this new administration. Yaxley has also taken to draining the swamp and creating a completely new set of cabinet and advisors. These new additions include Antonin Dolohov, Thorfinn Rowle and Augustus Rookwood. Other names and positions will be released along with the policy plans. </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>So far the new muggle registry is a success, it has upwards of fourteen hundred listed. Of those at least half have been found, a quite impressive feat from the new government. In just a few days the plans for the offending muggles who have been caught will be released. </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>Just this past week the Dark Lord has now finished his capture of Britain and seemed to be moving south though it's unclear where he is planning on going next. </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>The final plans for muggles in cities that have been captured have yet to be decided, which can be expected to be released soon as well. For now, muggle London is the first city to be completely exposed to the power of the Dark Lord. All muggle activities in London have been put to a halt and they have been placed on lockdown until the Dark Lord finds a use for them. <br/>
All purebloods are expected to carry their papers with them until permanent identification appointments have been completed. </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>The only question left unanswered- What is it the Dark Lord plans on doing if he is leaving the position of minister of magic to another? </em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>
      <em>*We oweled The Order for comment, they did not respond.</em>
    </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She stared at the article. It was much much worse than she had thought. Voldemort and his followers were moving quickly while The Order was reorganizing. Faster than she had expected. She read it twice more, the article was short, but it was informative enough and if the information printed was accurate, than it had to be worse now. She was unsure what to do with herself. Clearly, being associated with Harry meant she would be on the list, so she would be proactive, do what she could. She folded the paper and put it in the bag she had purchased at the single shop in town. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The bag needed altering, and yes maybe she had added an extension charm, but who knew how many things she would have to fit into her bag. She was just being realistic. <br/>
She went back to the bathroom, back to staring at herself. She looked different, yes, but her face was exactly the same. How in the world would she be able to change how she looked? Just a year prior she had been undesirable number two, her face plastered everywhere. Her face. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She threw her bag over her shoulder and went to the store. It was right next to the inn, not even a thirty-second walk. The shop was empty minus the woman at the register- Neda, she had an accent she had yet to identify but it was Slavic. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She went straight to the counter grabbing a bag of liquorice sweets and a beauty magazine. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>"Morning Neda, just these for me today." </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>The woman behind the counter smiled at her "Vonderful." Neda checked her out, "Vits four Sickles ten Knuts."</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She handed her the last of the money she had. "Thank you." </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>-</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She looked through the magazine twice, it was Ukrainian and she didn't understand a single word. Still, the photos were adequate references, she selected a woman she decided looked nothing like her. After all, she was the brightest witch of her age, she could make long-lasting changes to her appearance, ones only she could reverse. She ripped the page out and taped it on the mirror. The juxtaposition of her face and the one from the magazine, well it was perfect. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Maybe it was her eyes, they were much too recognisable. She whispered "Ristaris" instantly her eyes became a much richer brown. She squinted at herself, it wasn't enough. "Prostarium" Her lips morphed, no longer upturned on the ends or full in the middle, instead, they turned down and became even in width. It was better, she was less recognisable. Much less. It was odd looking at herself and not knowing the person she saw. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She looked different, but she felt different too. In just a few short weeks her actions had felt like another and now she looked like one too. She was undeniably different, but what could she do?</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>She raked her fingers through her hair, pushed at her cheeks and let out a breath. She had to do more. She looked different but sitting around and waiting wouldn't do. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>When the day came to a close she still had yet to figure out what to do. She had poor means of travel, and even if she did- Where would she go?  </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Hermione has changed, but she is still a Gryffindor. </em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>***</em>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>My apologies as this is a shorter one. I just have a shit ton of classwork :(. But I'll be done in like 2 months so then I can update biweekly. So until then I'll do as much as I can. I hope I can have this done by august but from the outline I have we're looking at 50-60 chapters based on how I organize the info so I guess we'll see. Hopefully, I can update within the next few weeks after I finish ANOTHER article and an exam ew. Just as a thanks for reading- I will tell you a black market chapter is coming ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Freedom of Information</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hermione is desperate for information. Draco is bored and looking for a purpose.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hahahahha uh, sorta edited, wrote this rather than editing my previous chapters or studying for an exam, or writing an essay, or going to class etc etc. So its edited ish, probs has issues, I just hate to edit so I read thru and fixed what I could. :))))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>***</p><p>
  <strong>May 25, 1998</strong>
</p><p>Waiting is agonizing. It isn't always, sometimes waiting is all about anticipation, surprise or appreciating a means to an end. She used to like waiting, especially on Christmas morning, she was never the impatient type, rather the days leading up, the atmosphere. Waiting is different now, it isn't what it once was. Waiting has become an enigma, time is a gift, but the lack of connectivity, the suspense was nearly painful. Never had she felt so alone.  </p><p>Her thoughts kept her company but they all revolved around one idea. Waiting. She waited for communication- unlikely, something to go wrong- an increasing possibility, and information- imminent however increasingly aggravating as the mail was days late.  </p><p>Each morning she had made sure to wake as early as she could. Sleeping a moment too long, well maybe she was paranoid but she was sure that one miss-step and it would all be over for her. </p><p>It had been three days since the last post arrived, three unbearable days. In that time all she could do was heal her aching feet, stare at her reflection for hours, become increasingly paranoid and hide. She was hiding from the wizarding world, yes, but those around her too. The moment the next post arrived she was planning a departure, and with a changed face anyone seeing her would be a risk. Maybe waiting to change her appearance would have been a better choice, but she didn't know when she would receive more information. The one thing she could count on- the moment it came into her possession she would leave. The town was safe, isolated which aided her, but the delay in information was clearly dangerous. In just a day the atmosphere of the wizarding world could change, the pendulum could swing and it could all be over. Her mind stayed there, it could all be over, but then it shifted, it could all get worse. Yes, this was why she needed to leave. </p><p>So until she got what she needed she would stay in the small room 'sick.' </p><p>-</p><p>She sat on the edge of her bed chewing her lower lip. She had read through the only reading material she had days ago, now she only skimmed it. Her eyelids were becoming heavy, days with minimal sleep and staying alert were starting to take effect. Her lashes felt lead-lined and took considerable effort to keep open. Slowly she fell asleep sitting upright against the bedpost unconscious of the backache she would soon have. </p><p>- </p><p>A rap on the door nearly sent her into cardiac arrest she whipped her head up smacking it on the bed. By the second knock, she was wide awake. <br/>
"I have the post do you still want it?"</p><p>"Yes thank you, Egil. You can leave it outside the door I don't want to get you sick."</p><p>"Alright, are you sure you don't want a tonic?"</p><p>"Oh, I'm quite alright I'm starting to feel better already. I imagine I'll recover in the next day."</p><p>"Alright, feel better."</p><p>As his foot steps moved away from the door she rose from the edge of the bed. She cracked it open to find a stack of paper and a bowl of soup. Was keeping her new face secret important enough to make an elderly man bend over twice daily to leave her food? She hoped so. </p><p>She set the soup to the side casting a warming charm and tore into the paper. Unlike before she found two The Daily Prophet and The Teller. So she began and immediately devoured all of the available information. Her eyes scanned the articles and her hands began to shake. </p><p><strong>Recovery</strong>       <br/>
<em>May 21, 1998<br/>
It is time that the silence is broken. The Prophet had made not that they have asked The Order for comment, they vehemently dispute this. In the weeks after the battle, The Order has taken its time to recover. They tell us the boy is well and recovered after the battle. Potter had taken time to heal along with his two best friends who are also in good health.</em></p><p>
  <em>We were not given information on what it is The Order is planning though we are sure they are working to disarm he-who-shall-not-be-named's forces and control over Britain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This is all the information we have from The Order but as it is just the first time we have reached out, more information may be given soon.</em>
</p><p>The article was short and did not include an author. What bothered her the most- Potter and his two best friends. Potter and his two best friends!? That was clearly her and Ron. Ron who was with Harry while she wasn't. What was it The Order sought to achieve by making it seem as if her presence was with them? More than likely they were trying to protect her, if the news read "Brightest Witch of Her Age Out on Her Own" well that just might be her downfall. No, it was good they choose to include her because otherwise, she would be a static target for the death eaters. She most certainly was not interested.</p><p>Both articles bothered her. She read through each, they provided information voiced very differently.</p><p><strong>Netherlands- A Shift in Political Atmosphere</strong>                                                                                              <br/>
<em>Rita Skeeter                                                                                                                                                                    </em><br/>
May 22, 1998<br/>
With the authoritarian tactics used by he-who-shall-not-be-named Britain has moved from a state of chaos to organization. Those who are in support of The Order have mostly gone into hiding.</p><p>
  <em>The curfew that has been put into place has made it increasingly difficult to go about daily life. With the ministry captured other means must be used in order to regain control. Pureblood identification has just been put into place- it has not been reported what the permanent identification is or how it functions.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This morning death eater forces have entered the Netherlands. The opposition has taken to defending the country however the number of death eaters who have entered the country is overwhelming.</em>
</p><p>-</p><p>The news was not once it what was. It was shorter, rushed and felt incomplete. Being in Eastern Europe no longer seemed like a viable option. </p><p>It was clear The Daily Prophet was lost to Voldemort whether the influence was strong or it was purely out of fear the information couldn't be trusted. Both papers were biased to the point the truth was somewhere in between. The Order needed to appear strong, and so did Death Eater forces. The Teller, well she had quite a good idea of where it came from. Xenophilius Lovegood's writing style was obvious, still, the paper made no mention of supporting The Order. However one article a page in led her to believe that this was on purpose and The Order had more than just a hand in the production.</p><p>Either way, if the papers were to be believed- she had to move. If they were in Eastern Europe the least she could do was get somewhere that didn't have such a delay on information. She had to protect herself, and by way of protecting herself, The Order as well. </p><p>As quickly as she read the papers she scarfed down her soup and packed all of her belongings- which wasn't much. The day was coming to a close so she wouldn't have to wait long. She occupied herself by checking her appearance was unrecognizable and finally she wrote a note to Egil, making sure to thank him for his hospitality, good food and kind words. </p><p>When she was finished she waited at the desk and counted the minutes as they passed. She had a good understanding of where she was going but less of a grasp on how to get there. As the late hours of the night passed and the early hours of the morning approached she stood. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and stepped into the night. </p><p>Hermione is leaving, but she is moving towards certainty. </p><p>- </p><p>
  <strong>September 3, 1997</strong>
</p><p>Empty, it was a feeling he knew well, yet he felt more accustomed to it than he had before. Months had passed and while the first few weeks of his stay had been rather enjoyable that had changed. The town was small and cramped and his only lifeline to the wizarding world didn't give him much comfort. With each Daily Prophet that came into his possession, he felt more and more uneasy. In the three months, he had spent in the town he had come to learn the wizarding world was more or less falling apart. While that fact was not written explicitly, he could read between the lines. He had decided that anyone with at least half a brain could see what was coming- war. The idea didn't thrill him, but a conclusion was what he desperately wanted and without it, he would still be stuck living in the shadows.</p><p>He had learned that a list had been made of muggle-borns wanted for interrogation, among them, he recognized two names- Hermione Granger and Ted Tonks. Now while he read about a list of muggle-borns, what he came to truly understand was that the ministry he had left behind was entirely changed. Just a year prior a list of muggle-borns would not have been acceptable, but the list told him that the Dark Lord had most certainly developed a political foothold.</p><p>Second, he read about Snape becoming headmaster of Hogwarts. The article spoke of reforming the school and improving the educational standards. However, he was able to deduce that like in the ministry the Dark Lord was behind this as well. Positioning Snape as headmaster was most definitely a strategic move, for what? That had yet to be decided but it was done with purpose none the less.</p><p>Third, he found the Daily Prophet's mention of undesirables. The first few mentions did not specify who these undesirables were. Without access to the wizarding world and not wanting to alert Ivan to his interest in political affairs he stayed quiet. But on the same day, Snape graced the front page, the second and third pages finally gave him an answer. Undesirable number one- Potter, undesirable number two- Granger, undesirable number three- Weasel, the three portraits were followed by a slew of wanted posters and names that may have information about those assisting The Order. The Prophet framed it as- "The Order Continues to Undermine the Ministry." etc. This was much easier to understand, but in context, it developed into something more. Clearly, The Ministry, Daily Prophet and Hogwarts were heavily influenced by death eater forces. The part of being hard to piece together came from his distance and lack of tangibility to the wizarding world.</p><p>How obvious were the death eaters? Were they running rampant, flooding the streets completely conducting how life operated in wizarding society or were they working in the background setting the scene for their emergence? This was the crucial information he needed to fully understand how close war neared and more importantly how he fit in.</p><p>Fourth and finally he read about a break-in at the ministry. This particular article was more of a challenge. It was much more to the point and transparent than any prior. It detailed a break-in at the ministry the offenders being the first three undesirables. The article noted their intentions as being taking over the ministry and described how unsuccessful they were. However, he could still find the fault in the article. One Potter and his sidekicks most likely had other intentions, two Potter and his stupid good luck streak most likely got what he wanted and three, this was just fuel to the fire. If The Ministry and Prophet didn't have any reason to criticize boy wonder before, this was what they needed. This would allow them to run wild, he could almost see it himself, the Dark Lord sitting in the Malfoy Manor sipping his tea and twiddling thumbs filled with glee at how easy it was all coming to him. Or at least that's how it looked, maybe it wasn't coming easy, but how would he know, he was alone, what life was like in the wizarding world a complete unknown.</p><p>-</p><p>life went on. He was so far from his former self. He had arrived with light brown hair and as it began to lighten even more he had taken to charming it. Appearing with white-blond hair would have taken him down a road he was not interested in. He understood now why Snape had wanted him to use muggle methods. Magic was a luxury and one he had never been unfortunate enough to live without. The muggle methods were certainly inferior, but when left with no other options he wouldn't be completely screwed. </p><p>His days were spent perusing the book store and finding the muggle literature wasn't awful. It was not to the level of wizarding novels, but he read them, maybe he enjoyed them, and maybe planned on taking some of them with him when he left. </p><p>Leaving was in the back of his mind. As bored as he had become security was something he had craved for years. Now that he had it, letting go seemed absurd. So he stayed blissfully unaware of the exact circumstances the wizarding world was under outside of the new identity he was slowly crafting. </p><p>- </p><p>Work was something that he had considered an afterthought. First, he had imagined himself following his father and working for the ministry, second, he had been sure he would again follow his father and rise in the ranks as a death eater. Neither was something he longed to do, but something he saw in his future, not by way of divination but it seemed clear to him. He had never imagined himself working a menial job, working for anything other than money, not that would have motivated him. Still, now he found himself doing just that. Ivan was kind to him and didn't ask questions, but he did ask one question. It seemed that weeks ago he had assumed or maybe realized that his new guest was not from the small town. Even without a concrete alias, Ivan didn't look for answers, he only asked one simple thing after the weeks they had known each other. </p><p>It was the first day of September and they were seated for breakfast. Ivan didn't have house elves so meals were left to them to prepare. It seemed rude to have his host constantly provide, so with the small amount of knowledge he had gained in the safe housed provided by Snape, breakfast was his to complete. He had made bacon, eggs and toast. Yes, it was simple, and he used magical methods but he had done it, he felt useful. As breakfast came to an end he could tell Ivan wanted to say something. He was a man who spoke often, they only ever discussed trivial topics making the impending war seem even farther away. Conversation didn't seem like it was there for content, rather to fill space. Ivan lived alone, worked alone and was seemingly lonely, they both were. </p><p>So when he stayed silent for an extended period of time, it was clear a question was coming. </p><p>Ivan pushed his empty plate away from in front of him and looked up. "What do you want me to call you?"</p><p>This was not what he had expected Ivan to ask and he wasn't prepared in the slightest at how to form an answer. Words seemed far away and his mind produced a million answers none of which seemed adequate. He had a unique name, he liked his name, but now he was presented with the opportunity to choose one for himself. It didn't have to mean something, but he wanted it to. He stayed silent considering and Ivan watched him. His question provided a choice, a path he could choose for himself. Finally, he decided and spoke. </p><p>"Caelum"</p><p>Ivan nodded "Alright." and they continued as they had before. </p><p>And it was the only question he asked. However, Ivan did instruct. This was how a menial job had become reality. The same night Ivan mid-dinner conversation made his first request. </p><p>"Caelum," He looked up at his new name.</p><p>"Er yes?"</p><p>"Tomorrow you'll come with me to my shop." Ivan continued eating and proceeded with the earlier topic, not even considering waiting for a response. </p><p>-</p><p>Ivan lived above his shop-  The Artisan Centre, it was small, tidy, eclectic. Really there wasn't one way to categorize it, what didn't Ivan sell? The shop had furniture, clothing, food, muggle tools that the purpose of- the muggles may not know either. Beyond the register, through a curtain, down the stairs, into the basement and past one more door, a second shop existed. It was just as full as the first, still organized meticulously but unlike the items being sold above, it contained any and everything of the magical variety. This was his first introduction to the black market. Ivan told him, "When you want to find it you can, you just have to look hard enough." He learned that the black market while believed to have one location had many offshoots and extensions. And as he had done many times, he took this information and filed it away, no doubt something that could be put to use. </p><p>So during the day, he manned the muggle shop and Ivan stayed below serving customers. Customers- who didn't enter through the front door, their point of entry remained ambiguous. The store needed little work, patrons were few and far between, everything was charmed to resist dust and new inventory unloaded itself after hours. He stood behind the counter for the first three days waiting, but business was alarmingly slow. The fact that none of the muggles in the town questioned how Ivan stayed open was a surprise because if he hadn't known what went on below, he would have wondered. </p><p>He spent the final two days of the week inspecting the items in the shop. Book titles he had never seen before lined the shelves, strangely constructed furniture, and trinkets that seemed to have no purpose. Ivan explained after he had finished his shift that lava lamps were used for decoration but a phallic object with coloured liquid seemed like an odd choice.  </p><p>
  <strong>September 19, 1997</strong>
</p><p>Friday couldn't have come too quickly. His week had been full of watching an empty shop, bored to tears didn't even cover it, he even succumbed to plugging in a lava lamp and watching it for a long unspecified amount of time. Ivan nearly always purchased dinner from one of the restaurants when he wanted something. But what he wanted was still not a question, and he had learned it wasn't a request either, it was something expected. As the meal came to a close Ivan vanished the containers clearing the table. He stopped the conversation and waited, he always timed what he had to say with practised intention. Ivan knew how to get what he wanted, he was observant, cunning, and intentional, he would have made a good Slytherin. </p><p>"Tomorrow is Saturday."</p><p>It was just a statement, but more was coming. "Yes?"</p><p>"The Artisan is closed on Saturday but the basement is not. You will come with me."</p><p>Ivan didn't wait for an answer he stood and retired to his room. There was no room for an answer. </p><p>- </p><p>His boring little life had no excitement, minimal social interaction and repetitive tasks. So he did his best not to seem too eager. He had checked his appearance and made very sure that he wouldn't be recognizable to anyone who came in. His hair was still charmed to the colour he wanted and the tortoiseshell spectacles obscured his face in just the right way. </p><p>He coveted a connection to his former self, just being surrounded by those who had the smallest connection to the wizarding world. </p><p>The shop looked the same as the first time he had visited. They began early to his delight Ivan brewed potions for the first half-hour not permitting him to aid but allowing him to observe. He learned that in the far corner of the shop patrons were able to enter by floor however first-time visitors had to request entrance. No names were exchanged only galleons. </p><p>The second visitor of the day was not a customer, instead, the man came with a box and left with an envelope. The man exited and Ivan shuffled towards it, "In my line of work I've come to learn that information can be worth more than all the gold in the world." Ivan flicked his wand and the content of the box sorted itself and moved to the shelves. Shrunken heads and vials of unmarked liquid flew around the shop, his eyes widened and he ducked as one nearly collided with him. </p><p>"What do you want me to help with today?"</p><p>Ivan stared at him for a moment, neither of them asked questions. "I have a large order next week, it will take days to brew. The Artisan will stay closed and you will work down here with me. I need an extra set of eyes to watch the shop while I work, sticky fingers happen often."</p><p>"Okay." He remained calm but on the inside, well he had many thoughts. One this was much better than what he had previously spent his time doing. But those he had associated with in the years prior frequented this type of establishment, he was a long way from home, but he would need to remain vigilant and keep his appearance just how he needed. </p><p>Draco is stuck, but he is creating something novel. </p><p>***</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So I hate myself for making the first eighth of this fic so fucking long. Were a few chapters from the timelines catching up which is a few chapters from them meeting so like fml. But anyways enjoy the update and lmk what you think :). Oh and if u see issues tell me bcs ill fix it :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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